Mudblood's Tale
by KatarinaBlack17
Summary: Two years after the War in which both Harry and Voldemort had died, the new ruler is Draco Malfoy, who is known for his ruthlessness and finesse in leading Purebloods. Muggleborns are in a tough position, but it gets worse when the Marriage Law is passed to prevent infertility and inbreeding. How will Hermione cope with being chosen to marry the most powerful man in Britain?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **I wasn't very satisfied with reading the Marriage Law fics because they were too unrealistic, so I tried to write something more natural for that situation. This isn't very romantic fic, especially at first, but we will get there, I promise. This is my first Dramione fic and I'm not a native speaker, so I apologize if there are some mistakes. Here are the first two chapters of the story, because the first one is that boring Prologue part which just introduces the story and the second one is the actual beginning of the plot. I hope you'll enjoy it!

Chapter 1

"I would rather die." She gritted through her teeth, causing one drop of blood from her bruised lip to drip down her chin.

"And I would rather grant you that wish, but you know our circumstances." Draco Malfoy casually replied, as if he was talking about the weather.

Oh, she knew the circumstances, all right. Those circumstances have been constantly ruining her life for two years. The Battle of Hogwarts was a disaster- Harry, her best friend, a beloved part of her soul, died along with Voldemort. They both cast killing curse on one another and they collided, causing a great explosion and ultimate death of the two greatest people in the wizarding history. After that moment all hell broke loose on the Hogwarts grounds. The Death Eaters wanted to avenge their master and upon seeing his dead body they started shooting curses at everyone in sight. The Order was desperately trying to fight them off, but they weren't evil or ruthless enough. All of them were broken because of the fact that their Boy Who Lived wasn't alive anymore, and their last shred of hope died with him.

So, the battle raged on, many people from both sides were killed, but of course, as it was in every war, someone had to prevail. That someone was power-hungry blonde boy with no ethics, no empathy and no care for people, but with exceptional strategy-filled brain. Seeing death and destruction on every step, instead of panicking, for the first time in his life he wanted to make the order. He wanted to save himself and his family, and seeing, in those chaotic moments, flashbacks of his future if they survived and if the Light won, he realized he had to use his brain to accomplish the victory and secure his life outside the prison. Draco Malfoy quickly helped his fellow Death Eaters go back up on their legs, and seeing the fury, anger and some big goal in his eyes, his aunt Bellatrix ordered every single soldier to blindly follow their future master. For the first time in her life, she had some motherly feeling for the boy and she was proud he finally started showing the famous temper of the Blacks.

And it was exactly like she sensed it would be- Draco, afraid only for his own life, made a strategy in his head with the speed of the light and found a way to surround the enemy and trap them in the Forbidden forest, and of course, kill anyone who would try to fight back. The Death Eaters successfully cornered The Order with the incantations and spells which made some kind of force field all around them, so the only way to escape was into the forest. Draco (curse his bad fortune) wasn't the one to kill the whole ginger family. Dolohov and his man had that honor. Every single one Weasley died at the same time, consumed by some cursed acid which turned them to ashes.

Hermione (curse her bad fortune) was only half a mile away from them and she could clearly hear their screams. When she realized what exactly had happened and what caused those awful screams which filled her nightmares even years later, she started to run. The it occurred to her that any fight was futile and that it didn't even matter would she survive or not. Everyone who she ever loved was dead, and that in the place where she came to meet and love them in the first place. But basic survival instinct kicked in and she ran and somehow managed to hide in some burned part of the woods, where no living soul was left. And she lied there and waited, and waited, and waited until all she heard was silence. There were no more war howls, no more cries and screams, no more Death Eathers making plans and laughing. But she heard enough. She knew they've lost, she knew the Dark won even without Voldemort and, instead of Bellatrix Lestrange, a new leader and master would be the strategist behind this abysmal battle- Draco Malfoy.

Under some lucky coincidences which aren't very important for this story, Hermione managed to run away, far away from Hogwarts and led if peaceful, if not boring life in Dublin. But from time to time she would hear some new information from some witches who lived next door, in Muggle neighborhood. She knew Draco was some kind of leader behind every branch of social life in Wizarding Britain, but didn't want to bore himself with the place of the Minister. Instead, that responsibility fell on none other than his best friend and closest companion,Theodore Nott, who adored Draco and followed him blindly, like a puppy. So, basically, Draco Malfoy was new Voldemort. Only he didn't really _care _about Mudbloods. He didn't encourage his people to torture and kill them, but didn't punish them for torturing either. Muggleborns could technically live like anyone else, if they survived constant attacks and general rejection. Law didn't acknowledge their existence, neither did Purebloods who weren't killers or maniacs. So basically, in that kind of world there wasn't a place for Hermione. Or she thought so...

Exactly two years after the Battle have passed, and still not one single baby in the Wizarding world of Britain was born. Purebloods didn't want to marry the lower breed, Muggleborns and Half-bloods who wanted to raise families didn't want to live there, so there was a huge problem, which would be solved only with the help of the mentioned lower breed. So, Draco Malfoy, realizing that he would be ruining his pureblooded line one way or another, remembered someone who would at least give him the brightest child in London.

At first, the idea was as repulsive as having to marry a slug. But desperate times called for desperate measures, the Ministry passed on the Marriage law, ordering every single Pureblood in London to marry a Mudblood and produce at least one child in the first year, and of course forbidding every way of fleeing the country. All escaped Mudbloods would be searched for and brought back to serve a new purpose.

At second, the idea was still as repulsive as having to marry a slug, but at least he would marry a smart slug. He had to make an example of himself, after all he was some kind of royalty now. So, in order to show his people that having half-blood spawn of a heir was better than having no heir at all, he had to find that know-it-all, bushy haired, ugly wench. It wasn't an easy task. After all, Mudbloods were hard to find nowadays, in London, without the whole search party, since they've been cast aside like some animals. Those who wanted to stay lived mostly at streets, losing dignity and offering to do disgusting stuff to perverted men, who were denied that sort of attention from their prude well-bred wives, or even working as housemaids and servants. He knew Granger enough to exclude those options; she was too proud to serve any man, let alone Pureblood.

So he searched. Secretly, the whole search party was made from his most capable men and they literally turned the whole Britain upside down, until they got an information from those Hermione's neighbors,in exchange for 1000 galleons. As soon as the group of wizards, all in black cloaks but without masks found her, they took her to the place which she assumed was Malfoy's dungeon, having heard them talking about the master. _Master _apparently didn't give them any sort of instruction on handling her,so when he came to visit her two days later, she was beaten up, chained to the wall and horribly dirty and hungry. Luckily, they didn't rape her, even though they threatened they would, but assuming their _master_ needed her, they left her be.

"I know the circumstances, all right. But why me?" She hissed, trying to control a whimper at the end of the question.

He sighed, looking thoroughly bored with the conversation. After all, he knew he would get his way. Escaping wasn't even an option; nobody would kill her and she wouldn't be able to kill herself after all the protective spells he was preparing to cast on her, securing that she wouldn't have her wand or any wand for that matter and securing that no sharp objects could be found near her when she was in such... state.

"I'm not in the mood to explain myself to you, and you are not in the position to pose questions. I'm merely here to inform you that from tomorrow, you will be my wife. We will live together and you will not leave my side, no matter what. After a year and the birth of my heir you can live separately, although you know that divorce is not an option. Or I can kill you, if that's what will satisfy you.''

"You're poison. You're rotten bastard of a- I will kill myself. I won't eat. I-I will find a way to..." she was rambling and trembling with fury and fear and... _Oh God, what will her life look like? _

Her skinny body was openly shaking and she had a panic attack, she saw it coming, but she couldn't calm down.

Malfoy just stood there watching her icily, not caring for her state. Actually, he was a man who wasn't caring for much nowadays. He had his smarts and he used it, that was what got him so high in ranks and away from Lucius' fuck ups, but he didn't regard his own life worthy. He was living as simply as was allowed for a ruler, honestly worrying only about his widowed mother, who was very depressed since his father's death in the Battle, and she didn't even looked at him the same. She behaved strangely, as if she was afraid of him.

And really, Draco Malfoy was far from the same. He grew up, used all of his potentials and leadership skills in building an empire. And the empire was built, but now he had to make it better. He had his visions of wizarding utopia and he acted on them, making himself if not the most loved, then definitely the most feared and followed man in the wizarding history. His power attracted people from all over the world and he knew if he showed any sign of humanity, he was doomed. So he buried it all deep inside, leaving only thirst for knowledge and power and feeding his calculating genius with it.

And this girl, this little twit shaking and on the verge of crying, hungry and probably hurt did nothing to him. After all he saw many people in much worse state, begging for death and bleeding on his feet, under the rule of Voldemort. But that was not his style. He, personally, rarely killed and sullied his hands and conscience. Instead, he let his people do as they saw appropriate.

He watched her for some time, just looking at her plain bony face with big, boring brown eyes, small nose and mouth, not at all interesting or appealing. She was too skinny for her not so small height, her hair was awful and she wasn't attractive at all. On the top of it all, she was a Mudblood. How was he supposed to look at her and not feel repulsed for the rest of his life, he didn't know. But then he remembered that she was the best of her kind and all the other ones were probably too stupid to at least learn how to behave. He knew for a fact that Granger could be a proper lady when she wanted to, the proof was the Yule Ball in their fourth year. He hoped to teach her how to be civil, no matter how long it took. She was a smart and fiery girl, and after the first shock she probably wouldn't want to get killed... he hoped.

So he took out his, one and only Elder Wand and released her from her chains. She fell down from the force of the spell, but he ignored her and cast those protective spells he had in mind. He was too disgusted with her state to help her, so he called for two house elves to take her to her new bedroom, separated with only one door from his. He hoped that they would patch her up enough to be functional tomorrow.

Finally being sure that his job with the Mudblood was currently finished, he cleaned his shoes off the dungeon dirt, straightened his expensive black robes and strode off, apparating to the Ministry, to announce his engagement.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The bedroom was a definition of luxury, all in soft beige colours-not that she cared. She just saw some brownish-white blur around her, while distantly listening to the squeaky voices of the elves who fretted over her. She just wanted to sleep, _oh how she needed some sleep_... and eat and bathe. She never felt more miserable in her life, and she survived a war. When the elves healed her bruised face and broken ribs, they levitated her to the bathroom while she was in half-conscious state. She didn't know exactly what was happening around her and even though she enjoyed warm water on her skin and matted hair, she felt unease creeping up on her. Her trauma of the past two days made her almost forget about her own ordeal and she finally relaxed in the bath.

Somewhere in the meantime she fell unconscious and when she woke up she was dressed in a soft, silky gold nightgown, half-sitting in the huge, incredibly soft king-size bed with satin beige sheets. In front of her was a big lit fireplace, making the room even more visually pleasing. She was woken up with one pop of the house elf who brought her some creamy soup and toast with cheese, and she ate with incredible vigor... until it hit her. She was fully conscious now, and looking through the window she figured it was close to the sunrise. The glass from the outside was a little blurred because of the November cold, but she could see some huge garden underneath. She supposed it was the second floor of the mansion, somewhere on the east side. It was somehow picturesque, the serene-looking girl watching the sunrise... until she took some silver ornament from the desk and tried to throw it and break the glass. But it only fell down with a thud and the glass remained intact. So the whole room was secured and it was her personal prison. It was then that she finally broke down. She started sobbing over her own miserable destiny and lost future, feeling all of the worst emotions one human could possibly comprehend. She was afraid, so very afraid of everything that awaited her. And she didn't like being afraid, she wasn't used to it, she wasn't used to not being in control. She always had at least one person by her side, up until now.

So she wept, screamed hysterically without even realizing it, until she heard someone on the other side of the door. She felt small surge of magic and heard the lock clicking. There, on the doorway stood a beautiful, regal woman with long blonde hair cascading her back, dressed in elegant blue nightgown. Her face looked like one of porcelain dolls and she watched Hermione with big blue eyes witch lacked any compassion.

She ignored Hermione's horror-stricken face and with perfect measured grace came closer and looked at the girl kneeling on the ground and pulling her hair in mid-wail.

"Don't pull your hair, you will tangle it and today is a ceremony, you should look presentable." She said coldly, her fair face looking slightly disgusted.

Hermione was so shocked with this woman's nerve, that she stopped crying immediately and looked at her with disbelief.

"My hair is not my top priority right now." She answered as calmly as possible, even though all the fear dissipated and instead she felt great fury rising within her.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your tantrum, but you're getting married in three hours, and your screams woke me up an hour too early, so I suggest you start getting ready and I will go back to my wing." Narcissa said, ignoring Hermione's shimmering rage which she could feel even from foot apart. _Strong magic, interesting._

"My tantrum? My tantrum?! I don't give a flying fuck about a wedding with your psycho of a son, I will kill myself before-" Hermione started shouting, throwing all the pleasantries through the window and trying not to jump on this old bitch and strangle her, but was interrupted with the sharp stinging pain in her face, as if someone started slapping her hard.

Narcissa jerked her wand and released the hex, showing no sign of anger, or even nervousness.

"Be careful with your tone, girl. You're here at the mercy of my son and you will act accordingly. If I hear another sound from this room, I will show you just how capable I am in inflicting pain and leaving no mark. Now go to the bathroom, the elves will be here shortly." Narcissa strode off not waiting for the answer, leaving Hermione gaping. It was official; she as the slave of the house, and if she did anything to piss them off, she would be tortured.

At first, she tried to think of the way to get out of there, to just run away from that hell. Her analytical brain quickly shuffled through all the possibilities until it ran out of them. When the reality hit her she cried some more, but it wasn't hysterical anymore. It was pitiful and quiet and she balled up on the carpet, hugging her knees and wathcing the sunrise, trying to deal with the grief of the complete loss of her life.

That was how the two elves found her, with tangled hair and face blotchy from the constant flow of tears.

"Young mistress has to get up, Elly and Semmie must help you get ready!" One of them, dressed in a clean pink sheet squeaked. Hermione reconned that this one was Elly, and the other one, dressed in a blue sheet was Semmie.

She averted her dead look from them to the window and sighed wistfully, and finally managed to stand on her weak and tired legs. The elves, unexpectedly nice to her even though she was a Mudblood, tried to make her look as pretty as possible. They brought some silky white nightdress which she supposed was for after, for consummation part, and felt bile rising up her throat. Then they brought a beautiful white robe embroidered with silver intricate designs. The matching white sash was supposed to go around her waist. It was disgusting to her. Silk scratched her skin and the sash smothered her, not allowing enough space to breathe. The elves started doing their incredible magic on her hair and the result was one perfect braid intertwined with some white flowers. The idea was, she guessed, alright, and if she wanted it it would be beautiful, but upon looking at herself in the mirror she wanted to throw up.

They were doing the last touch ups on her numb body while she was more and more out of it. It was like she was watching herself from somewhere above, with no way of stopping this madness. Soon after she heard a click on the door and saw the impeccable figure of Narcissa Malfoy. She sent the elves away and made Hermione stand up so she could size her up properly.

"They did a good job. You look very pretty, miss Granger, although you're very pale. Nerves don't do much for your complexion, do try to calm down." She sounded if not sincere, at least polite, not at all like earlier that morning.

Hermiome felt even more caged looking at that fake smile on a perfect face.

"Let's go, it's time. The wedding will be held in the back gardens. It will be a small ceremony, just enough people smartly put together." Hermione immediately understood what it was all about. There were going to be all the important people and probably some reporters, just enough to make a successful and exagerrated rumour, to show the people how the Law was a main concern for all of them, even the mighty Malfoy.

"Oh, and miss Granger, a little piece of advice. Just go along with everything and life will be much easier." Narcissa didn't know why exactly she said that, but the shuddering miserable girl in front of her made her feel sorry, even for the _lower kind_. She actually reminded her of her own self back in the day, and she meant it honesty. To live with a powerful man , you have to be quiet and just bear with it all. Merlin knew what awaited the girl with her son, no, with the man her son became.

Hermione walked dazed, as if there was a guillotine waiting for her in the gardens. She heard some thudding sound, like millions of drums were playing some war melody around she went out on the daylight for the first time in days, she didn't feel sharpness of November cold on her skin. She felt nothing. She saw people sitting in front of the sweetly decorated altar and there was her future..._husband_ waiting for her, but she heard no sound. No chirping of the birds, no whispers of the people even though she saw their lips move. She didn't hear the sound of her own steps nor felt the small drop of rain which slowly started to fall while she was finishing her execution walk. No sounds, only that constant thudding. She didn't dare to look up at Malfoy's face when she finally stopped walking and stood beside him, watching the Ministry official say some things which she didn't hear.

Then she felt Malfoy turn in her direction and saw the Ministry official looking expectantly at her, so she mechanically did the same and saw Malfoy's outstretched hand. She took it and in the distance , beside the sound of drums she heard some incantations and her mind foggily registered binding spells and light sparks snaking up their hands. Then they exchanged the rings which the Ministry official provided and when she placed the simple gold ring on his finger, she on reflex looked at her husband. His face was a perfect mask of calmness, its symmetrical features making him look like a statue of a Greek god. But when she looked in his eyes, it seemed to her that they gave her a sign of life. It was maybe a trick of grey light from the clouds above which matched his eyes, but she swore she could see a hing of sorrow somewhere in there.

And the drumming stopped.

She later realized that it was actually her heart trying to jump out of her chest, but his little show of weakness somehow strengthened her up. And with that, the binding ceremony was over. There was no kiss, no cheering, nothing. Everything was serious and dignified.

She didn't even remember the rest of it. There were people congratulating her and trying to conceal their disgust on touching her hand, there was eating, drinking and dancing. And she was just sitting there, not even sure if she was awake or this was just another of her nightmares.

She saw Bellatrix coming to their table and speaking with Malfoy, casting sinister glances at her and she didn't even flinch in her presence. Bellatrix left one of the greatest trauma on her but Hermione was so out of it, she wouldn't have cared if the bitch crucioed her right there on the dance floor. She saw people mingling, she even saw some of her classmates. She saw white flowers, expensive dress robes and jewelry, saw disgusted looks in her direction, and in one moment, might have been a minute or an eternity later, she felt a gentle tug on her cold, clammy hand.

"We should go now." She blinked and realized it was Malfoy talking to her and it was already night. He took her hand gracefully and took her inside, leaving that faceless mass of people to enjoy this abomination of a wedding party. One hall, one hallway, one staircase, another hallway, another staircase. This house was like a labyrinth and her head started to hurt.

Finally she recognized the floor her bedroom was in, but when they went in, the sheets were changed in the simple white linen and there were some papers on the bed table. She then realized it wasn't only her bedroom. It was his too and he slept somewhere else last night. She saw one pair of combat boots beside the bed and it confirmed her suspicion.

_Her husband_ was now behind her and she heard the door clicking shut and locked. There was silence, and it was even scarier than that thudding sound she was listening to all morning. She knew what was coming and she was right then afraid of that more than anything.

She was a virgin. She hadn't done anything with the boys in school and she had hoped to make love to Ron when all the hell of the war was over. But since the war passed two whole years and she barely had the time to heal a little from the loss of her love, let alone find someone new.

She felt her presence occupying her space now, but she wasn't brave enough to turn around and look at him. She just stood there petrified,while the elegant pale hands with long fingers went around her waist and worked on the sash of her wedding dress. Then, she felt those fingers crawling up her chest, trying to unbutton the robe. One by one button was undone, and there was a hand sliding the robe off her shoulders. Were they trembling? She could swear she saw those fingers trembling with the last button, but she was too concentrated on her own fear to acknowledge it.

When she was standing only in that white satin nightdress with the robe now carelessly lying crumpled on the floor, she felt those fingers leisurely undoing her braid, making the flowers fall down like some snowflakes. _It should have been Ron._

She felt him inching in, felt something hard poking her backside, felt the hot lips on her neck, _it should have been Ron!_

And she jerked away in fear.

Realizing her actions, she froze momentarily, not daring to look at him but feeling all too familiar sting in her throat and wetness on her cheeks. She was crying again and she couldn't control herself, especially because she was expecting her punishment now.

Malfoy drew away from her and circled her, and upon seeing her horror-stricken face he sighed. For the first time in a very long time, he felt a slight sting of guilt. He wasn't a rapist and _this wouldn't do_.

He drew out his wand and Hermione tried to hold her gasp, ready for the torture which was following, without a doubt.

"Give me your hand."

She blinked not understanding, and finally looked at his face. Still empty. Still cold. Somehow tired.

"Your hand, Granger." He repeated with a little more force and she tried to comply, but she was shaking too much. He sighed again and forced himself to remain calm.

"It's the binding spell, Granger. To seal it and make the marriage valid we have to consummate it... or we can use the cheating method. It's the simple binding spell. I need your blood." He explained slowly, keeping his voice under control while cutting through his palm, not even flinching. Hermione understood and finally complied, all the fear dissipating and leaving only shock with this simple act of kindness. She flinched in pain when he cut through her flesh and their bloody hands collided, with a hot surge of magic passing through their bodies. If he was disgusted with her blood he didn't show it, and when it was done he healed his and her palm both and went to the bathroom casually, as if nothing has happened at all.

Hermione was still standing on the same place, trying to comprehend what exactly had happened and still not believing her torture was over. When he came back he looked at her oddly.

"You can go to sleep now." He said dismissively and went to sit at the desk by the window, summoning some documents and reading them with great attention.

Hermione dazedly went to lie down, her brain so full with wondering and dilemmas that it went overdrive and completely shut off. As soon as her head hit the pillow she fell asleep, feeling unease in his presence, but not bothering enough to stay awake.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: Thank you for reading and reviews, if you like it be free to follow it and leave a comment!

Chapter 3

She stayed in bed for the next two days, feeling dazed and nauseous. Her only visitors were two little elves who called her "Young mistress Malfoy" and took care of her with great worry and attention. She didn't see Malfoy at all after that first night. He went out of the room while she was still asleep and didn't come back at all, not that she needed him.  
She didn't know what to do with herself. Her constant fear of life in this house was slowly developing into some kind of anxiety and she knew she had to stop her panicking mind one way or another. With all the plans of escaping and suicide officially gone, she encouraged herself to keep living. Keep living, and it will be better. It has to be. She couldn't go back on lively and spunky self with no hope and no protection from anyone, no friends or belongings. She was alone and she had to keep living alone. It was a terrible and sad way of existence, but right now she couldn't think of anything better. All the hope and light was beaten out of her.  
So she finally drew up the strength and got up, went to the bathroom and tried to relax. She accepted it all with indifference which was so much unlike her. She washed her body and hair with some expensive scented products and felt at least marginally better. She wrapped a towel around herself and went back to the bedroom, in attempt to search for clean clothes. Only, the bedroom wasn't empty as she expected it would be. Malfoy was there, reading some letter while trying to button up his black robe simultaneously. Pureblood men now looked too much like soldiers, she thought. Even on her wedding she saw some of them wearing this uniform, consisting of black trousers with pockets, black blouse, black robe and black combat boots. Even Malfoy wore one of those uniforms, even though, as she understood, he was their new Voldemort now. She expected at least something different on him, but nothing gave his place in society away.  
When he felt her presence he glanced from the letter at her and didn't show any kind of recognition. He just finished reading the letter and threw it in the fireplace, finished buttoning up his robe and hurriedly started looking for something in the drawer on the desk.  
"You can go wherever you like in the mansion or outside of it, but not outside of estate. If you wander off alone the spells will probably burn you alive. My mother's in her wing most of the time, so you will have your space. There are only servants and my men around and you should stay away from the latter." He said it all very quckly, behaving as if he was giving instructions to one od his _men_. Although it did surprise Hermione, she expected some kind of despise and venom from him, not this polite indifference.  
She only nodded, not sure if she felt relief or annoyance with his clear dismissing. "Where are you going?" She didn't know why she asked that. She felt flame on her cheeks and when he turned to look at her in annoyance, she felt even more foolish.  
"I will be back in two days. That's when Nott's getting married, so prepare for the ceremony and find something presentable to wear. You have everything you need in the closet." He finally found what he was looking for and she could see his face in clear light. He looked even more tired than before and a little... depressed?  
He left her there, in his gigantic house, standing alone and furious. She was just a trophy mudblood wife whose only job was to look presentable and bear children. So she would show those pureblood bastards what kind of a lady she was. For today she found some cashmere white sweater and black pants and sent the elves to find for her the strongest product for curly hair there was. She spent the remainder of the morning getting ready. For who, when she was alone? She didn't have the slightest idea, but at least it pumped up her confidence.  
With impeccable clothes and hair picked up in a chignon, she went out of the room and started exploring. She saw nothing particularly interesting, just a bunch of unnecessary drawing rooms, guest rooms etc. everything was stylish and expensive and if she had the money they had, she would probably decorate it the same. Everything was simple, yet in the right place. But the gardens left the biggest impression on her. Without the chairs, altar and the red carpet gone, she could finally see all the beauty of the place. It was huge and it was clean, with willows which were yellow and red in the fall. It was so big that she couldn't see the end of it.

When she was back in the house she found some more rooms and even found a place where that drawing room was... except it looked completely different than before. There was not a trace of the room where the worst night in her life happened. The chandelier was gone, the floors, furniture and walls were different. She didn't feel anything standing there, not a single emotion to remind her of her trauma. All in all, if there were any other cirumstances under which she was supposed to live there, she would be satisfied, but this fact made her feel even more lost.  
The last room she visited was a huge kitchen. When she stepped in there she thought she'd find only little elves doing their chores, but what she didn't expect were a few young women cleaning or washing the dishes, who looked at her strangely when she got there.  
"Are you the new one? The aprons are there, next to the freezer. Quick, get dressed and go peel those onions!" One of them, slightly older thin black haired woman in a clean grey dress and the matching apron barked.  
"Sorry, I'm not..." Hermione started talking but the loud bang, followed with a cry of pain interrupted her.  
"No, please, don't!" That was coming from the young woman who had an ugly gash on her cheek and horror-stricken face, while the huge man held her hair and tried to rip apart her clothes. All the girls from the kitchen, previously interested with Hermione's arrival, now pretended they didn't hear girl's cries. _Bitches_.

"Get away from her!" Hermione screamed and the man turned around. She immediately recognised an ugly, sick, disturbingly amused face of Mcnair.  
"You want to take her place? No problem, miss." He laughed delightedly and threw the poor girl on the kitchen floor, and started coming dangerously close for Hermione's liking. Maybe she was a little traumatized with all the previous events, but her reflexes couldn't be better. As soon as he laid a hand on her waist, Hermione quickly took a big meat knife from the sink and stabbed him in the thigh. He cried out in pain, momentarily incapacitated, but quickly drew his wand.

"You crazy Mudblood bitch, I will-"

"Take that wand away before you hurt yourself even more, you fool. You're talking to the new mistress of the house." That cold, impeccably measured tone belonged to none other than the actual _mistress_ of the house, Narcissa.

She took out her own wand, swished without a single word, and the blade from the Mcnair's leg flew out fast, making him scream in pain.

"If you ever again even look at her the wrong way, let alone touch her, Draco Malfoy will kill you in a blink and you know it. Now apologize to your mistress and we will forget about this, seeing that she has already punished you." Narcissa said it like she would lecture a stupid child, while taking the invisible peck of dust off her oerfect satin green robe.  
"But she's a... she's a Mudblood, Narcissa!" He made a mistake saying that and he knew it as soon the words flew out of his mouth.

"Crucio." he was now crying in pain, rolling on the ground and begging her to stop.

Hermione stood there like a deer in the headlights, not daring to stop the woman from torturing, but not enjoying the scene either... well, actually, she did enjoy it a little.

When she finally stopped, the man was lying on the ground, half-conscious and breathing hard.

"I will now go and notify Draco about your little mishap, Mcnair. I don't know what will happen to you when he comes back home. Jane, help this poor girl. Hermione, come with me." The woman in gray dress quickly moved to help the petrified girl who was watching the whole ordeal without a sound. Hermione, left without a choice, ran to fall in the step with this blonde riddle of a woman.  
"You dressed well. Although I would recommend some robes next time, that combination just screams Muggle." Narcissa said pleasantly when Hermione caught up with her, like the incident in the kitchens didn't even happen.

"Are those girls in the kitchen your slaves?" Hermione asked, ignoring Narcissa's try to change the topic.

"Of course not. They work for us and in exchange they get free food and a place to live. It's more than enough for _their_ kind in these times. They can leave whenever they want, although they don't really have a better choice." Narcissa answered, not at all perturbed with sudden questioning.

"So basically, those girls are no better than house elves." Hermione felt colour draining from her face.

"Well yes, although house elves have their magic, and Mudbloods are stripped of their wands since Umbridge and her law."

"I'm one of those Mudbloods too, you know. Why do I get different treatment? Why did you help me?"

"Simply because my son chose you. He has his reasons and because of that you are a Malfoy now. Probably the first Mudblood Malfoy in history, but nevertheless, a Malfoy." Narcissa laughed with mirth. So she was amused with Hermione's turmoil. _We'll see about that_.  
"I don't need anything from him or from you, I can go clean and sleep with the rest of the girls, only to get away from you!" Hermione barked, irritated with the woman's careless attitude.

"Do you miss your magic, Hermione? They broke your wand when they kidnapped you, yes? And with the law in charge there is no way for you to get another one, right?" Narcissa turned to her when they came close to Hermione's bedroom.

Hermione didn't answer. She was looking at the blonde confused, a little surprised with the question.  
"Draco knows how to perform excellent wandless magic. I've never seen anyone doing it with such ease." Narcissa said casually,_ a little too casually_, smiled serenely and without another word turned and left Hermione standing speechless in the hallway.

* * *

The rest of her time alone and at peace dragged on. She couldn't leave the mansion because of the terrible weather and decided to get to know the house. Some rooms were locked, the other ones were boring and at last she went to visit the kitchens again, the morning when Malfoy was supposed to come back from wherever he'd gone to.  
The girls regarded her with respect, even Jane, the one who controlled the work. Hermione felt some kind of shame being with them and talking to them while they looked at her like some saviour, even if she did basically nothing. And the worst part was, if any other girl did the same, she wouldn't get away with it. Stabbing one of the Malfoy's men certainly wasn't encouraged action around here. But, in the short time of her visit, hermione especially took liking to the newest girl, the girl she _saved_. Her name was Kate and she was three years older than Hermione. She was sorted into Hufflepuff in school and they didn't really know each other. Hermione reckoned, if she was the mistress as Narcissa had put it kindly, she could have her personal servant. She brought Kate to her bedroom, to help her pick the dress for Nott's wedding. Her plan was to wear something Muggle and provoke every single bigoted jerk on the ceremony, just to see what would happen.

"Oh my god, this room is fantastic! Oh, look at the size of the closet! I could live in here!" Kate was thrilled with her new chore.

"Wanna trade?" Hermione snorted, amused with the thrill of the girl.

"Oh cmon, you have the most powerful husband in Britain, he'll always protect you!" "Yeah, well, who's going to protect me from him?" Hermione whispered, feeling melancholy and fear creeping back on her.  
Kate blinked and looked at Hermione with empathy. They understood and felt sorry for each other. After all, they were living their own hells.

"Well then, let's find the most beautiful dress in the closet!" Kate cleared her throat and started rummaging the closet in search for muggle dresses, while Hermione stood there uninterested. Later, when Kate couldn't decide between one champagne coloured long dress and the other one, thight green knee-lengthed piece, she made Hermione parade around to compare them.

"Granger, are you ready? We're leaving in 15 minutes!" They heard the noise outside the closet and froze. Malfoy was back.

"Just a moment!" Hermione stayed in the green dress and took some black high-heeled shoes, feeling nervous and already angry with the following event. She suspected that it would be horrible and braced herself. She came out with Kate trailing behind her.

"Are you done? I will- who's that?" There was Malfoy, in his black uniform, standing by the desk and looking impatient. He started to talk sharply and got confused when he finally spotted Kate.

"That's Kate, I brought her from the kitchens to help me get ready."

"Get out, Kate."  
"What- you can't just- Malfoy, she helps me-" Hermione started stuttering, shocked with his rudeness.

"I said get out, now!" Malfoy barked and she saw something akin to anger across his usually stony face. Kate ran out with head held low before Hermione had the time to protest.  
"Let me be clear. The only living beings who are allowed in this bedroom are the ones in here right now, and the two of my personal elves. Are you stupid? Do you realize that she could do something to you, or find some valuable things I hold in here? She could be easily a spy, Granger." He talked with the dignity only the royal people wore with ease, but she knew he was pissed off. But she wasn't scared. Not anymore.

"Oh please Malfoy, the girl's lost and scared, yesterday she was almost raped! I helped her and today she helped me, I don't see-"

"You got almost killed because of that Mudblood yesterday? And I had to lose one of my men because of betrayal and disrespect only for that girl?" Malfoy asked indignantly. looking at her like she was crazy.

"You're an awful human being, do you know that?! She was _only_ innocent and ready for the slaughter _only_ because your man was bored! I don't give a fuck if you punished him, I will kill anyone who does something similar next time!" Hermione shouted, losing all the patience.

"And I don't give a fuck about your pets, Granger! Don't make the rules in the house where you have very similar position as those Mudbloods!" She started to arrange her locks so her hair would look elegant, but when she heard that she whirled around, took off a heel and threw it at him. He ducked, not believing the stupid bravery of the girl.

"I'm not going to the wedding." She said quietly, took off the other shoe and stood in front of him with clear defiance.

"Excuse me?!"

"I'm not. Going. To the stupid. Wedding. Do you understand, you controlling psycho?" She thought he would hit her. Or curse her, for that matter. He certainly knew the moment when to draw out his wand and look at her like a beast watching the prey.

"I can curse you to do as I like. I can inflict you the pain you never even imagined. I can bind you naked to that bed and rape you when I come back drunk. I can do whatever I want to you because I chose you to be mine. Do you understand? Now be a good Mudblood, put on those shoes and come here, _my beloved wifey_. Now."

"You wouldn't do that." She answered, but didn't quite believe it herself.

"You don't know that."

"Fine." She obeyed, but only because technically he was right. She was on the unknown territory here, she was, for the first time in her life, the weaker one. And she hated it.  
"Are you putting on a robe over that?" He was now watching her Muggle choice of clothing with interest. Pureblood women wore robes most of the time snd he couldn't lie to himself that he rather liked free, revealing muggle clothing. But that wasn't proper for a Pureblood lady and something primal and possessive in him didn't want anyone to see what he had.

"No."

"You're going dressed like that?"

"Yes. Am I a Mudblood or not? I'm the scum, no need to sully traditional clothing of wizards." She hissed and stood beside him, with the head held high and mustered all the grace she had. She felt him fuming with annoyance and for the first time in days she felt powerful. She smirked.

* * *

When they apparated in the hall of Nott's mansion, she expected all the eyes to be on them. What she didn't sxpect was the stopping of all chatter and making space for them to pass, as if Malfoy were a king. What didn't surprise her but pleased her immensely were the looks of confusion, even horror on seeing her dress. And what shocked her to her core was a feel of a warm, big hand taking hers and holding it securely. Malfoy took her to the first row and they sat next to Blaze Zabini, his italian Muggleborn girlfriend who looked honestly happy, and the bane of Hermione's school life- Pansy Parkinson. They cast dirty looks ar each other, and Hermione smiled in spite. She knew Pansy had been in love with Draco all of their childhood, and judging by her behavior and pale face, she probably still was. It was evil but Hermione felt calmer knowing that not only Muggleborns were in unhappy position.  
The ceremony was boring and pretty much the same as their, only the blushing bride looked ecstatic. After all, she would be the wife of the Minister. Hermione loathed stupid girl's smiling face. When they went to celebrate the new marriage, Hermione and Malfoy were seated at the table with Slytherins from their year in Hogwarts and they all talked to Draco as if she wasn't even there. Except Pansy, of course.

"Congratulations on your new wife, Draco. I see you still didn't teach her how to dress decently." Pansy said in sickly sweet voice.

"Oh, pug-face, we meet again. Why didn't you come to our wedding?" Hermione sang with a deadly smile before Draco even had the chance to say something. Silence fell on the whole table and now all of them listened carefully.

"I didn't adress you, I talked to Draco." Pansy hissed, her face getting some ugly red blotches.

"What, you were too hurt you couldn't marry him?" Hermione said quietly, but with immense satisfaction. She hit the nerve.

Pansy stood up angrily and looked like she was preparing to punch her. The whole hall was now watching their table with interest.  
"Wherever you are and whatever you do you will be only a Mudblood bitch who will be spat on and laughed at!" Pansy shouted, forgetting about her etiquette. And on Hermione's great pleasure, Malfoy stood up too.  
"That's my wife you're talking to, Parkinson." He said quietly but clearly, looking at her like he was going to curse her.  
"But Draco- I- Granger-" Pansy's face was getting worriedly purplish complexion.

"It's Mistress Malfoy for you and anyone else. Don't make me repeat what I... said to Mcnair the other day." Malfoy said it loudly, for everyone to hear. Then he simply sat down and preteneded that nothing happened at all. Pansy cast the last glare at Hermione and left hurriedly. And nobody bothered Hermione after that. She smirked, feeling powerful for the second time in that day.

* * *

But alas, her victory didn't last too long. As soon they were back in their bedroom, Malfoy whirled in after her and locked the door behind him.

"What was that? Why did you have to open your big mouth at all?" He yelled, and for the first time she openly saw anger on his face. _Bingo_.

"She provoked me first!"

"You just needed to sit down and be fucking quiet!"

"Well, I'm a Mudblood, I don't know for better." Hermione bit with dangerously cold edge in her voice.

"You're a Mudblood, not an animal!" He shouted and she could see his mouth turning downwards with disgust. So he finally got into a trap.

"So why do you treat us that way?"

He fell quiet, his eyes widening slightly. She finally won.

"My blood is the same as yours. You saw it. You have it in your blood. So where is the difference, exactly?" Hermione said quietly, not taking eyes off his stormy gray, feeling only a slight fear with his reaction.  
"You're not the same as me. You'll never be. You're just abomination who is not quite a Muggle, neither a witch. You're a mistake of the nature. Your parents probably fucked up badly if they were punished with having a freak of a child." he started his monologue, terribly angry with the events of the day and this girl giving herself so much freedom, only because she knew she had his protection. But with the change in her expression, he knew he'd gone too far. He even felt guilt. _Really, guilt again_?

"Don't you ever, ever again mention my parents." She growled, her slight frame standing tall and proud very close to his. Their noses almost touched and he could see every little hateful spark in her eyes. But then he saw now already familiar sparkle of unshed tears and grief, and he felt the sting of guilt biting into him even harder. He felt dirty, like he kicked a puppy.

She saw a change in his attitude as soon as it occurred and stepped back, allowing the vulnerable side to come out. She was so fucking tired of it all. Her shoulders slumped and she physically just gave up. She took off her shoes and dress staying in the satin undergarments, took off the clip holding her hair together, bowed her head and looked at the floor. She hated her weakness.

"Go to sleep, Granger." He said quietly, lit the fireplace with one wave of the hand and went to sit at the desk, avoiding her hurt look.  
And she slept.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Be ready the day after tomorrow by 9am, we're going to St Mungo's"  
Those were the first words Malfoy said to her since Nott's wedding, a few days ago. They've been avoiding each other ever since, up until he hurried into the parlour, where Hermione sat drinking tea and watching rain.

"Excuse me?" she jerked, as if he woke her up from deep slumber.

"The letter came this morning. You have to go on an exam, they have to check your... reproductive system to see if you're pregnant." He looked uncomfortable talking to her about it and she rolled her eyes. She hated conservativness of the Purebloods.

But then she remembered. The gynecological exam in Wizarding world looked very similar to Muggle world, although they used wands instead of instruments. The problem was, they used different methods on virgins and on sexually active women.

Malfoy saw the change in her mood and realized something was terribly wrong.

"What is it? We'll just say we're still trying and buy us some more time for... that."

"No, Malfoy, I..." She stuttered, suddenly getting even more nervous. How to say something so private to the man she barely even knew? But he would find out sooner or later, right? So she took a deep breath.

"Malfoy, I'm a virgin. They'll know."

He blinked and she saw a wave of insecurity washing over him. That was one of the rare moments when she could see and comfort herself that he didn't marry her just to spite her and fuck up her life. He was far from happy too.

"You just have to make everything difficult, don't you? Why hadn't you just fucked around in school?" He barked, agitated, and in all her nervousness she found his questions somehow funny.

''Are you really mad because I didn't sleep with anyone?" she laughed disbelievingly.

"See you tonight, Granger." He said it in a cold tone of finality and she didn't find even one thing funny anymore. She knew that this day would come, although she hoped to delay it as much as possible.

She didn't know what to do with herself. She tried to be reasonable, tried to rationalize the situation and just prepare mentally, thinking about it as if it was going to the dentist. Although she wouldn't expose and give her body to the dentist. She didn't believe in all the crap about falling in love after sex, or strengthening the relationship. That might be true for some other people, in this case she wanted to get away from her own skin, far, far away. She just hoped it wouldn't last too long and that it wouldn't hurt too much. She tried to comfort herself, but didn't succeed. For someone who wanted to have sex only as an act of love, this was a very harsh blow. She felt like she was betraying her own body. After one session of overthinking which didn't help her in the slightest, Hermione just decided to survive until the bedtime and try not to focus too much on it. She left the peaceful parlour and unfinished cup of tea, suddenly feeling too qeasy to drink it, and went to the kitchens to visit Kate and be in some nice company for a change.

"If you had a possibility to run away anywhere from here, where would you go?" They were sitting in one of many unnecessary drawing rooms and Kate pretended to clean while Hermione pretended to read, only to have some quality time together.

Kate looked a little confused with the question, but answered with confidence which could be seen only on people who had already thought about it.

"Switzerland, the cottage of my grandparents. Then we would call my parents and sister and we would all live securely until all of this calms down. Nobody would find us." Hermione nodded, acknowledging a good plan behind those words.

"How about you?"

"I... I really don't know. I altered the memory of my parents and sent them to Australia for security, and now they live a happy life without me." Hermione explained, trying to distance herself from the dark burden of her emotions.

"Oh, that's terrible! If there was a way, I would bring you with me! Everyone would love you!" Then Kate proceeded to talk about her family and Hermione listened, trying to forget her own fucked up life and concentrating on the memories of the girl.

Unfortunately, as she feared, the day flew by fast and after dinner she went to bathe, left without any hope of avoiding the inevitable. She even tried to meditate there in the bathtub, lying with her head resting very, very near the water. And she didn't care. She didn't care if she drowned. She took a deep breath and went under water, fantasying that she was still a little girl, and when she would resurface, she would find her mother smiling kindly at her and holding a big fluffy white towel which would swallow her tiny body. She was so deep in her memories that when she resurfaced, she half expected to see exactly the picture her tortured mind created. But what she saw surprised her. There, on the doorway, stood Malfoy, looking worriedly at the bathtub. She wiped her wet hair from her eyes and saw him coming closer, looking slightly manic.

"Are you insane? Were you trying to drown?" He yelled and she looked at him coldly.

"I was just...remembering something." She shifted her look from him to the towel laying near the tub and expected a full blow of new harsh words.

But he just sighed and gave her a towel, going into the bedroom to give her some privacy. She snorted invardly; privacy was something she would officially be stripped off tonight. She dressed in one of those satin nightdresses she had in piles in her closet, and the one she put on was blue. Blue as love. She now snorted loudly and went out, toweling her huge hair.

Malfoy gave her one of his unreadable looks and waved his hand. Her hair was dry. Well, there was at least that. She wanted to thank him but he got up from the bed and slowly walked in her direction and her throat dried up. There was that hint of panic she was now very familiar with and in her dazed state she thought that Malfoy looked like some oversized cat when he walked with leisure.

He got close enough and stopped when there was barely a foot of distance between them. She looked at him closely. He was very tall and lean. She reconed there wasn't much of muscle under his uniform, but somehow he still radiated with strength. And that scared her. She was, yet again, the weak one. But when she realized he still hadn't moved an inch, she clenched her teeth, careful not to look into his eyes and touched him. It was fairly innocent, just a feminine hand on his chest but she felt his heart beating faster and his nervousness encouraged her too. She unbuttoned his cloak and it flew carelessly on the floor. He stood still, like a statue.

But when she reached to the hem of his shirt, all the courage disappeared. She felt petrified and couldn't move even an inch more. _I can't do it_.

She finally looked at him helplessly, begging him with her eyes to just ease her pain and man up.

And he understood.

He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off and she saw pale skin of a man, a real man before her. _Not the boy. Not Ron_.

She blinked away the tears and instead focused on the scars crossing his delicately toned chest. That was Harry's work. Malfoy nearly died that day. _Pity he didn't_.

But then she saw outstreched hand with long pale fingers. The hand was familiar ar least. She took it and let Malfoy lead her to the bed. She knew what was coming, of course, so she just lied down.

She expected him to go on top of her but instead he circled the bed and lied next to her.

"...what...?" She turned to face him and whispered, not believing her voice. She expected to see disgust or hate in those eyes, at least some indication that he was resentful. Instead she saw emptiness, terrible, depressing emptiness.

"I can't... you're not inspiring enough." He whispered too and she somehow felt calmer listening to the voice. The voice was familiar, too.

"...Oh." She felt his hand searching dor hers and guiding it to the zipper of his pants. He just put it there and she understood, trying to touch him and massage him over marerial into erection. It was a weird feeling, doing that to the human she resented the most. His hand in the meantime slide to the hem of her nightdress and he touched her over the material, unexpectedly gently and she closed her eyes. She would maybe even like it if there was anyone else on the other side of the bed.

When she felt a scarily big bulge growing under her ministrations she felt him roll on top of her and heard the zipper opening and shuffling of the pants. She opened her eyes and saw his face only an inch away from her own, felt his body temperature warming her cold body up and looked at him with slight interest. He was biting his lip and touching himself, looking at the little part of exposed flesh of her breasts. She shifted to reveal her chest even more, taking it all as a necessitty and accepting it that way. He even glanced at her thankfully, funny that, and she saw his manhood now fully erect, standing dangerously close to her entrance. He touched her there now directly, and seeing her pitiful dryness he sighed.

"Lick." He said deeply, putting his hand directly in front of her face.

"Excuse me?!"

He sighed again and licked his finger, then proceeded to massge her nether lips and clitoris, trying to help her relax. That was not an option.

Seeing how his actions were futile he licked his middle finger again and tried to push through her entrance slowly. She felt some weird sensation of something not quite fitting right and tried to relax her muscles. He touched her some more, but finally gave up. He lined himself with her, balancing on his elbows so only their middles and legs touched and looked her in the eye.

"Just try to relax." And he pushed in slowly, and she felt ripping and pain of her hymen breaking. It was like someone was poking her with a knife. She cried out in pain and felt tears welling up in her eyes and looking at him she saw a different kind of pain on his face. It was emotional. She saw his face getting sadder and more pained while he watched her struggle and he did something outrageous. He kissed her.

Getting back on that day he didn't know what possessed him to do that, but right then he just didn't want to torture her anymore.

He kissed her softly, his lips touched her with gentle pecks and she heard him say "breathe".

And she did. Shocked with his ministrations she forgot, even for a second, about the pain and breathed in and out a couple of times. It was still awfully uncomfortable, feeling him move in there, but she just tried to breathe deeply through it all. She felt him increase the pace slightly and it stang her but she just closed her eyes and prayed for it to be over. She felt his lips on her neck, felt his hand on her breast and the other one on her buttock, _whatever, whatever it takes to be over._

"I'm sorry."

When she heard his whisper she opened her eyes just to see his worked up face scrunched on the brink of completion, and there it was, she looked at it unraveling and felt his member pulsing inside her and coating her with his juices. He collapsed on top of her breathing hard and rolled over, looking at the ceiling and blinking dazedly. He looked weirdly relaxed, as if he had just taken a huge burden of his back... and put it on hers.

When she breathed in the air filled with pheromones, sweat and sex, she felt even worse than before. And when the pain eased a little her stomach started to hurt. She felt dirty. She felt lower than the bottom itself. She felt miserable. And she was crying again.

Malfoy turned to her slightly and saw her trembling with quiet sobs, but luckily he had the decency not to mention it. Actually, he just watched her quietly, still keeping the comfortable distance between them and for some reason she felt slightly better.

"If you want to cry too, be free. I won't judge." She managed to utter cinically through her sobs, not even knowing why.

And he _laughed_. He laughed a full, childish, teeth-baring, face-scrunching snicker. All with the funny snort. And she was shocked with the change of his face. It looked almost alive.

"Go to sleep, Granger."

* * *

When she woke up the next morning, dizzy and with aching muscles which she didn't even know she had down there, she expected to be alone in the bed. She expected to feel shitty and in alarming need of shower, but she also expected to be alone in the room. And that was where she was wrong.

Malfoy was sitting at the desk in his black pants an shirt just thrown over his shoulders, messy and unbuttoned, and wrote furiously on some parchment. When she saw him she choked in mid-yawn and he turned to her, startled. He looked like he woke up just moments before, with eyelids swollen with sleep and hair weirdly sticking in different directions. When he saw her, equally messy, but finally awake, he gave her one lethargic look, devoid of any concern or resent. He just looked at her as someone who was simply _there_ and he was used to it.  
"The owl woke me up." He said in husky morning voice and she simply nodded, confused with his decision to talk normally.

"Do you know how to read Russian?"

"What?" And now she was startled, not believing her voice or brain to answer the question. He looked at her like she was an idiot.

"Russian language. Do you know how to read it, understand it?"

"N-no." she stuttered, still not knowing what was going on. He sighed tiredly.

"I really need some help with answering their letters. I ought to just teach you, yes?" He looked at her with some analytical intention, as if he was sizing up her abilities.

"Why Russian?"

"Well, in Germany, France and Italy I- we managed to make alliances, and Russians are very powerful and clever wizards, I hope to form a friendship with them. Both sides would very much benefit from that."

"And you will simply let me read your letters full of your sick ideology and plans how to conquer the world?" She hissed, hating him maybe even more than ever before.

"I'm not Voldemort, Granger,-"

"-could've been fooled."

"-I don't have an _ideology_. I simply need them on our good side." He finished, pretending not to hear her interruption.

"And you will give me the access to important information simply because?"

"Because, who would you tell? Who's there to ruin it?" He laughed coldly, not at all like last night. It was a terrible, empty laugh.

_Really, who could I tell_? Hermione asked herself, while quietly getting up and walking to the table.

"If I help you with that, you will help me back."

"Are you blackmailing me? You know I could-"

"Yeah, yeah, tie me up, rape me and torture me. The worst is already done. I don't give a fuck." she said it coldly, ignoring his pitifully disguised cringe at her words.

"You will teach me wandless magic."

"Deal."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

They said that the person who lost it all, has a great ability to find happiness in the smallest wonders. They also said that every person gets their own cross to carry through life-stronger the person, bigger the cross.

_What a load of crap_, Hermione thought while breathing in chill December air. She was walking through the gloomy gardens, dead and almost ugly in this time of the year, listening to the dogs barking and horses neighing in the barns, down by the big pond. She never went that far in the estate. She hated frogs and slugs around the pond and knew that Malfoy was spending most of his free time feeding or riding horses. On the thought of the mentioned young man she got even more irritated, even though she caught herself not loathing him _enough_. He was, after that night, if not nice, than definitely at least more civil to her. He even took her to St. Mungo's though she assumed it was only to keep the facade of young couple in love, but it was somehow comforting to her. He was by her side the whole time until she asked him, whispering aggressively, to stay in the hallway until she was done. And she hated her life in which Malfoy had the role of support. She was now obliged to go on an exams every single month, up until she got pregnant, and then there would be more following. Hermione didn't know how much time would Malfoy give her before losing patience and breeding her with his spawn, but she hoped it wouldn't be soon.

_It isn't that bad really_, she comforted herself thinking about him respecting his part of the deal and teaching her, along with Russian language, wandless magic. They would practice every single day, at first one hour of reading those weird letters, than one hour of wandless magic. He never asked her what she wanted to do with it which she was thankful for, even though he would occasionally give her some calculating look, as if trying to figure out what would she do with magic.

"Vingardium Leviosa." Hermione said clearly, pointing her finger on a little piece of branch with a few dead leaves lying near her feet. Nothing happened.

"Son of a bitch.'' She mumbled, annoyed, looking at the branch as if it killed everything she ever loved.

"That's not very nice language for such a nice lady." Hermione heard amused murmur behind her and turned casually, only to see Narcissa looking at her with almost kind look. She was used to the woman now. It's been a whole month since she was forcefully married and she actually liked the presence of the woman, now that she didn't see any ill intention in her behavior. The woman's aura was very regal and powerful, she had that Black aristocracy and grace within her so no one could stay unaffected. Also, she didn't speak much but she was very clever, which reminded Hermione of Malfoy. She had to admit that he had his own thing which attracted people, just like his mother, only he used it in wicked and wrong ways. But Narcissa was something else. She was a cunning mystery and Hermione knew that she needed to look up on her if she were to survive.

"I see you're still keeping your Muggle look around you." It wasn't said with malice, it was a simple statement.

Hermione looked down on her woolen, knee length, pale blue dress and black boots.

"I find it much more comfortable than robes."

"But aren't you cold?"

"Maybe a little, but I will go back inside now."

"I had a different thought. If you're not busy, you can go and take lunch to Draco, he is down there on the pastures with horses." Hermione saw badly hidden cunning in Narcissa's eyes and knew that the woman was up to something.

"Why me?"

"Well, why not? He's your husband, you have to live with him for the rest of your lives. You can as well make him some company.'' _Not if I have any say in it, _Hermione thought bitterly.

"Fine." Hermione sighed and went to the kitchen to take lunch. Ellie, the house elf, packed it in a box and gave it to her a little confused with Hermione's actions, but Hermione just shrugged, not wanting to elaborate why was she taking her husband's lunch.

She walked slowly, feeling somehow awkward, like she was intruding on his safe haven. After all it was only his place, where he went to relax. She, in fact, noticed changes in his behavior after spending time in there. He would become more laid back, of not more pleasant to be around, without that many slurs and offensive words directed at Hermione's heritage. And she was set to ruin it all now with her presence.

He was feeding one beautiful black horse when she spotted him, the sleeves of his black blouse rolled to his elbows, his pale skin in stark contrast with fabric. She could clearly see his profile and used the opportunity to just watch him while he was in his most natural state. His face was devoid of any bad emotion and his calmness radiated off him calming even herself. He didn't hear her, but when the horse got upset with her presence he saw her standing on the entrance. He didn't have a clue what she wanted but for some reason he felt glad to see her, as if she was his good friend. He frowned on his own stupidity and Hermione noticed it, feeling even more out of place.

"Can you come out? I brought you some lunch." she cleared her throat and said it carefully, looking at him like he was a tiger ready to rip her apart, limb by limb. He didn't like her that way. He didn't like scared Granger.

"Alright. Let's go to that tree over there." He turned to her and showed her the spot, the place which would be perfect to have a picnic in spring. It was under one big willow tree, which was depressingly dead without leaves now, near the pond, but not too close. He didn't show any sign of confusion on her presence and her awkwardness dissipated a little.

"Did you talk to my mother?" He asked after a few moments of silence, right when they came close to the willow.

"Yes, she actually sent me here." She answered, holding the basket with lunch and looking around her with slight unease. Where to put it, when the ground was wet and cold?

"I figured. She thinks I'm too lonely." Malfoy snorted cynically, but without usual malice. When he caught a glimpse of her standing there stupidly and holding the basket, he cast some spells and there was invisible blanket under them. He sat down and she did the same, not really conscious of her predicament. _He was actually sharing with her personal stuff?_

"Well, are you?" She asked quietly, not sure if he even heard her. Just when the words left her mouth she prayed he didn't.

He looked at her strangely then, while trying to find comfortable position for a plate with some meat and vegetables. Hermione saw usual emptiness in his look, only it was more pronounced and she felt even pity. _Really, pitying a dictator?_

"I don't have time for that." he said sharply, trying to cover up his insecurity with manly bark.

"Fine then, I ought to go now." She barked back, annoyed with his immaturity, and stood up to leave.

"No, wait, ah, you can, um, wait until I'm finished so you could bring the remains back." he stuttered and she saw a sudden change on his face. He didn't find her irritating and privy. He actually looked like he desperately wanted her to stay. And she felt a pang of sympathy. It looked like she wasn't the only one alone and lost. She pitied her enemy. Stupid, stupid girl.

They sat in silence while he ate and she was just starting to get bored when he attempted to talk again.

It was just a pathetic try to break the tension, he started to question her how did she find books on wandless magic he provided her, did she finally learn levitating spell and was she practicing reading of foreign language; just like some professor would question his student. She answered every question with a few simple words, but when she started to talk about the book she couldn't stop. It was a first thing she read in God knows how long and she missed books so much.

"... But it doesn't really explain how to make connection with your brain, you know? Magic should be something natural but it just won't come to me and I have some blockage whenever I try!" She finished her passionate speech with wild gesticulating, totally forgetting who was she talking to.

It was an early evening, around five p.m. and she didn't even notice in their heated discussion that they were heading back to the mansion.

"But I repeated it million times! Just think of your wand! Just remember the feeling of the magic surging through your body!" Malfoy answered, looking slightly annoyed but it was actually amusement dancing in the corner of his lips.

"Well I can't! I can't just imagine the feeling, Malfoy!" She looked like she was slightly distressed because it was probably the first time for her not to learn something quickly.

"Okay, stop right here." He ordered her with a hint of laughter in his voice and it sounded weird, it sounded as if he was years younger. She stopped short and he circled her, stood close behind her, so close that his nose touched her anomaly of hair. It was horrible, sharp and wild mass of wool and he hated it. It was so... untamed.

She felt him close and felt a little uncomfortable, unwanted picture of their first night coming back to her. She was so scared then. Now, not so much.

He took her hand in his and pointed it to the white peacock feather on the ground. And she finally felt it, and she missed it so fucking much she wanted to weep with joy. It was magic, cursing through his body and running through her veins, she felt the tingling, thought about a fuse burning through her and exploding on the tip of her finger. And the feather flew up to her. She smiled, really smiled with pleasure for a first time in so long, and then she heard a whisper near her neck,

"Now you remember."

She turned to him and saw his face, calm and illuminated with moonlight and it made her instinct to despise him weaken. She had always believed, that a person's personality could effect how much people found them repulsive. If someone was ugly on the inside, she would see them as the ugliest person in the world. Now, with her hatred for Malfoy slightly wavered by the odd calm that had settled between them, she accepted that he was a rather striking wizard. His face was perfect, like someone made him from marble. Every little line on his face screamed for attention in its own beauty and she forgot, just for a second, that there was the most dangerous and evil man in the world standing close to her. He was just a man to her then. Not some idea of a monstrosity which wanted to torture her, not an idea of unknown and untouchable husband. He was there, sharing his magic with her and looking at her with pleasant satisfaction and she had to blink a couple of times to go back to reality.

"Be careful nephew, you'll get infected." Someone cooed behind them and Hermione felt goosebumps all over her body. She despised that voice more than anything in the world.

"_Auntie_, that's my wife, be nice." Malfoy turned around, turning Hermione with him and still holding her close, probably feeling her tremble with fury.

Bellatrix stood there in awful black dress and with sinister smile on that gaunt face, looking exactly like Hermione imagined evil witches in fairytales.

"But don't forget honey, that's Mudblood. She should be more like a pet, not wife. Did he teach you how to speak, girl? Or you're still using screams to communicate, like you did before?" Hermione felt every single pore in her body begging to get a hold on this bitch and strangle her. But she trained herself well. She felt her lips turning into a cold smile, very similar to Malfoy's. Even though she felt that she was shaking, she smiled down on the woman, remembering Narcissa's tone and simply said,

"I don't talk to Draco's servants." Bellatrix looked like someone slapped her.  
"You little Mudblood bitch!" She screamed and drew her wand, but Draco was faster. Hermione heard one quiet "_Expelliarmus_" and the wand flew to him.

"Auntie, do calm down. Let's talk business. What happened in Bristol? Who killed Rogers?" Bellatrix refused to talk in front of Hermione, so Malfoy sent her away. She walked with head held high, casting one disgusted glance at Lestrange and feeling elated with her own bravery_. Vengeance will be mine_, Hermione repeated to herself.

* * *

That night, she heard a knock when she was already in bed, trying to get comfortable and get at least some sleep.

"Who is it?" she jumped up in bed and yelled, unnerved, praying that Malfoy's protective spells were in place and Bellatrix wouldn't kill her. But on the door stood, not her supposed murderer, but her husband, looking devastatingly in need for some sleep. He was still in his uniform and it looked like he was back from some trip. Probably Bristol, Hermione thought to herself.

He just went in and without a single word went to the bathroom. Hermione listened, puzzled beyond comprehension, the water running in the bath and tried to understand why did he have to shower right there.

He came out minutes later, wearing simple grey sweatpants and baggy grey T-shirt. Hermione was looking in her sworn enemy from childhood, sleepy in his pajamas.

"What are you doing?" she managed to rasp out when he climbed on the bed and began to fluff the pillow on _his_ side.

"I'm going to sleep in here." He said as if it was the most normal thing he did every night.

"Why?!" she almost shouted, hating her own confusion.

"Because I said so!" He yelled back, but without any malice, only with slight fear of rejection painted on his face, and he tried to hide it. She rolled her eyes.

"Fine!" she tossed herself back in her cocoon of linen, annoyed with the nerve to take away her privacy of sleeping.

Moments later, when they got quiet and he probably thought she was asleep, she felt an arm snaking up on her and hugging her close to him.

It should have bothered her. She should have felt repulsed and disgusted with the man who managed to make her life living hell hugging her. But she didn't.

She turned to him, looking at him puzzled, and he opened his eyes, the beauty of the greys luring her to be closer.

"Just go to sleep, Granger." And they slept.

* * *

"If you could get away from here, would you try to contact some of my friends?"

"What?" Kate looked at her scared, manically turning around them to see if anybody was near. But they were alone in the gardens.

"Just do me a favor. If you hear that Neville or Luna is alive, let me know. Try to get some information, you're free to go to Diagon Alley, right?"

"I don't know Hermione, it's too dangerous, everyone's watching us closely and-"

"Just try?"

"Okay, I will."


	6. Chapter 6

Happy holidays to all of you who celebrate them now! I had free time since I'm celebrating Christmas on January 7th, so here you go, enjoy new chapter!

Chapter 6  
"I require free access to the library."

She was beginning to seriously mess with his brain. This girl was the most impossible one of all he had ever met. Every action she took after their wedding, every little speech she made to convince him that she was no different than he was, confused him. And he was a man who didn't let confusion get to him easily. Actually, he met so many people in his life, that barely a few things surprised him anymore. Curse his bad luck, one of those things was his wife. She was too clever for her own good, he'd known that since school, alright. But her cleverness and bravery, her newfound spunk and crushed melancholy in those big doe eyes made him start to reconsider his whole belief system. This little twit, with bushy hair and squared bony shoulders,_demanding_ something from the man who ruled England, was screwing with his mind. It was a slow process really, and he desperately tried to get a hold on himself, but she was too interesting creature. She learned to read Russian faster than himself; her project with wandless magic was successfully progressing, she was mastering it with incredible vigor, proving once again that her dirty magic didn't have any fault. But the thing which made him seriously start to worry about his own intellect was her bravery and not the classic, Gryffindor recklessness he was used to in school; no, she was waging wars of wits with him every day, she was unafraid to talk down to the woman who tortured her two years ago, she was able to play a perfect aristocrat without a blink.

Draco was starting to begrudgingly admire his wife, and he fought with all his strength not to admit it. He didn't even notice it, his little change in behavior. He didn't notice how he was talking more to her as the days flew by, how he enjoyed to fight with her about her heritage, how he crawled back to her, to their bed every single night without a fail. On the moments when he would catch himself relaxing too much with her or simply enjoying her too much he would withdraw, but he could sense he was in terrible danger. This woman had the power to break the mechanism which held his empire together-the voice of his father and Voldemort drilling into him the strong ideology of the lower breed was fading slowly in his brain, without him knowing how to stop it.

Draco Malfoy consoled himself that it was normal, that the whole marriage thing was mulling with his brain and since she was the only woman he was allowed to be close to, it was natural for him to yearn for her...in purely intellectual way. He chose to forget how he slept peacefully for the first time in his life while her scent suffocated him and her body held his warmness, he chose to forget how perfectly he held her like some safety net shielding him from nightmares. He also chose to forget how every time she was in a trouble because of her big mouth, or just simply standing in front of him skinny and unprotected, he had the urge to save her and put her under a glass bell. But he also chose not to believe in every single word she said, no matter how much it affected him. He had the picture around himself which must never change. It would be the butterfly effect- one small thing could make a ruckus. The disaster was bound to happen if he concentrated on his little doubt worming up his mind every time _the Mudblood_ excelled in something. So he simply kept on living his troublesome and busy life and consoled himself that Granger was, as his aunt cleverly said it, just a pet. A pest or a pet, he couldn't quite figure it out.

"What do you need the library for?" He asked, sizing up her Muggle black pants and a turtle neck clinging nicely to her body, but refusing to admit that he liked it.

"Firstly, I need it for my research on wandless magic, I want to see psychological aspect of it. I want to study and control it while-"

"Granger, you can't just read the instruction. Some things just have to be handled by feeling."

"Hermione looked at him critically, refusing to validate his words, but seeing truth in them. There was something elegant radiating off him while he spoke, especially when leading the discussion.

"I learned everything I know from books, so please don't patronize me and please just give me the access to the library. I won't steal any of your precious little dark magic books on how to skin Mudbloods alive, I promise." She scoffed in the same time when he did.

"I don't think you'll steal my books, Granger. But there are some dark magic books which are very, very dangerous and I'm afraid-I suspect you will be screwed if you touch anything you shouldn't." He started and flinched on that word. Afraid. Fearing for her wellbeing. Weird.

So he quickly corrected himself, praying that she didn't hear it.

"You're worrying about me?" Her eyebrows shot up in disbelief. She knew something was wrong with him but reckoned it was simply because of her constant presence. She was getting used to him too, after all, and she even had to remind herself to loath him. It was hard when she was isolated and away from all the madness and horrors she supposed he and his lot did to Muggleborns, so she couldn't quite grasp the whole picture of his sickness. In the last couple of days she began to develop some kind of tolerance towards him, and that was what she really couldn't let happen. She had to tell herself every single day: She was a prisoner and he was her executor.

"I'm not worried about you per se, it's more that you will mother my child, so my primary concern for you is to stay out of danger's way." He shrugged, trying to act nonchalantly but he was disgusted with the knowledge that it was a lie.

"Oh. Right. Well then, I will be more careful and you will give me the permission." She stopped there, feigning disinterest but feeling like she was even smaller than some ugly insect when his words hit her. And she hated herself for uttering the following word: "Please."

Pure shock flew across his face and he didn't even try to hide it. His eyebrows shot up , almost touching his hairline.

"But-" he even stuttered, but one loud knock on the door interrupted him.

"Master, I have some bad news." One skinny, very young and pleasant looking boy burst in the drawing room hurriedly, not waiting for the approval,and just when Hermione looked at Malfoy expecting from him some reprimand, his face darkened and he nodded for the boy to continue.

"I was at Nott's just before and... he is dead. Nott is-he was murdered." The boy started talking with sharp tone but the courage drained from him and Hermione saw grief in the end of the speech. These words shocked even her own self; Nott was, after Draco, the most powerful man in Britain. Who in Merlin's name managed to do that?! Hermione even felt some weird sensation in her guts, something like pride or victory, but one look on Malfoy smothered those feelings.

He paled and blinked, all life leaving his already cold eyes. His lips twisted downwards in something akin anger or sadness, or maybe both? And his brows furrowed, making him look years older. The silence that followed was a heavy one and it wasn't even that long, but to Hermione it looked like eternity. In reality, Malfoy composed himself in the speed of light and cleared his throat, smothering every reaction with that and quickly started shooting questions at the poor boy.

Hermione felt dazed and awkward standing there and tried to concentrate on the information but her mind was elsewhere. She actually thought Malfoy was a complete psychopath. His best friend was dead and he was as calm as statue, not grieving for a second? _Terrible_.

"How did they manage to get into the house? Are there any trails? Still nothing?" The boy was answering as quickly as possible but Malfoy was clearly unsatisfied, because they had found Nott just ten minutes ago and the investigation was just about to start.

Draco touched the bridge of his nose in impatience and his eyes accidentally fell on Hermione who was still standing there quiet and confused, and for one fleeting moment she saw one lost boy, not knowing what to do with his life. But that passed quickly too; he stood straighter, cleared his throat again and called for Ellie, the house-elf.

"Take Granger to the library and give her the key. Be there for her and if you sense dark books, move them away." He said, not sparing even one fleeting look at Hermione and apparated away. The boy took his cue and did the same, nodding to the bewildered girl with respect. Not disgust, not hate. Simple respect for the fellow human.

* * *

A young woman, Nott's now widowed wife, was crying hysterically in the corner and one of the female Ministry officials, or more correctly Aurors was trying to soothe her. She looked like messy and afraid and the glass of water in her hands was spilling because of her constant, uncontrolled shaking. That was the first thing Draco saw when he apparated to Nott's. Next, he saw a bunch of people trying to do their work on the crime scene and in the second corner he saw Nott- no, Nott's corpse covered with white sheet. He knew he had to say something now that everyone's attention full of fear and respect was at him, but he was failing to find the words. That fucking corpse was too unnerving to him.

"Tell me everything." He simply said, but with quieter and deeper voice than usual.

One of the Aurors, younger brother of Millicent Bulstrode hurried to him and in serious and quick pace started explaining everything they had found out.

But Draco wasn't satisfied. Bulstrode said that the time of the death was roughly late night, at about three am. There was no sign of physical combat, there was no sign of wounds or wounding curses so the only explanation was Killing curse. He had his wand with him but the killer was quicker, so it was a skilled dueler making a crime. Nott's wife found him dead when she woke up in the morning and searched for him, worried because he never came to bed. He had a long night at work and then stopped by to Dolohov, for private matters. They had already questioned Dolohov too and he saw no intruder near his mansion, nor he had company when Nott came to visit. He was sent straight to Russia after talking to Nott and came back after hearing about the murder, so he was free of charge. But who else, who could have came into Nott's drawing room with easy permission? it could have been anyone. Even one of Draco's men.

"Let me see the body." Draco mumbled and Bulstrode nodded, clearing the way of buzzing aurors for him.

* * *

Hermione's day flew by in the library. It reminded her of a library in her elementary school before Hogwarts, long shelves stacked with books filling almost all of the free space, set in ten or even more rows. She buried herself in reading, ignoring the darkness of the cursed books radiating around her and concentrating on her work. She didn't manage to find everything she wanted in the first try, but it was even better that way-that way she could deal with her boredom on her favorite way, researching. The elf helped her as Malfoy ordered, shielding her from some risky situations when she would get to carried away to notice she had got too close to the dark magic. She even burned one of those books on accident, using her still uncontrolled fingers to ca st the spell on instinct, when the crazy book attacked her, reminding her of that book pf Monsters from third year on Hogwarts.

So when she finally got back to her bedroom after spending whole day locked up in the library, with singed clothes, hair even bushier than usual and face smudged with tar, she felt exhausted and dirty, but very satisfied with her own productivity. She even felt nice tingling of tiredness and couldn't wait to get to her comfy bed.

It perplexed her a little that Malfoy wasn't there, since they where now sharing the bed as the normal thing (_Don't even go there,_ she reprimanded her brain while putting on her nightdress), but she shrugged and accepted her solace, remembering the events of the morning. After her brain tormented her with infinite questions, she finally managed to shut it off and float into a light slumber.

BANG!

She jumped up startled, for some reason afraid for her life, but relaxed a little when she saw familiar tall figure of Malfoy slamming the bedroom door shut. But her ease was cut short when he hurried into the bathroom and she heard him retching. Hermione ran in small steps to the bathroom and turned on the light with the wave of her hand, afraid to come closer and just stood on the doorframe.

Malfoy was shaking uncontrollably, kneeling on the floor by the toilet, with head hung low and eyes closed. His hair was mused and matted with sweat, his impeccable uniform was wrinkled with robe carelessly thrown somewhere back in the bedroom and he was dangerously pale. Hermione never saw him this unhinged.

When he sensed her near he looked at her with those dead eyes and she wanted to run and hide. There was something so depressing, so chill in his look that even Hermione felt a little broken. It glued her to her place, and she felt like she remembered every single bad thing that she had witnessed in her life just looking at him.

"Malfoy- are you-?" _Stupid question_. "Do you need anything?" she whispered and he nodded slowly, not taking his eyes off her. She finally left her spot on the doorframe and came closer to him.

"Do you have some potions for nausea in here? I can-"

"No, I-" he started with scratchy voice but shut up, looking away and looking like he just then realized where he was. He blinked slowly.

"I need to shower." He whispered and she nodded, leaving him in the bathroom and going back to bed. She hadn't even realized until then that she was shaking too, and if she looked in the mirror she could see herself considerably paler than minutes ago. So he was human, after all.

She heard the water running and then she heard movements, but when the water was shut there was only silence. And just when she started getting worried that he had maybe fallen ill or unconscious, he emerged, still in his black trousers, but without his blouse. He looked clean, but still very lost and depressed.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and hung his head low, almost touching his knees and Hermione had a clear view of his slim back, looking beautiful in the moonlight. But the scene somehow shook her and she wanted desperately to console, to console her enemy and tell him it was alright. Stupid girl. She didn't do exactly that, it would be too much, but she joined him on the edge of the bed, her bare feet barely touching the floor, and chose to put respectful distance between them.

And she did something silly. She said, and meant it honestly,

"I'm sorry for your loss."

His head slowly turned to her and she saw again those haunting eyes, although now they weren't as empty as before. She could see a terrifying mix of fury, acceptance and grief. His jaw clenched and lips went downwards, and he opened his mouth and closed it again, in the loss of words.

She averted her eyes to the wall, trying not to be rude and almost forgot that she even spoke at all when she heard a soft, broken whisper,

"He was my best friend." And she closed her eyes too. She thought she would be glad, she would be victorious when this man felt even a zilch of horrors she felt and survived. But she just remembered her own loss and loneliness, her own losing of everything close to her and instead of spite she felt pure empathy.

A twinge of sadness was slowly rising from the stomach to her throat, occupying every fiber of her body and when she looked at him again, she saw him holding his head in his hands and shaking. _Merlin, he was crying._

She touched his shoulder with her palm slowly, feeling awkwardness at the touch. Their bodies touched when they slept in the same bed of course, but it was always his body seeking for her, and this right now was her first attempt of getting physically closer to him.

On the feel of her hand Draco looked at her with bloodshot eyes and shame written on his face, but she was fast.

"It's okay." She whispered. His eyes flashed.

"Nothing's okay, Granger! Nothing's fucking okay!" he yelled and she stared at him unflinching. It was pain of grief. She wasn't afraid.

"Yeah, and it's not fair! It's so fucking wrong and twisted, I know!" She shouted back, feeling exhilarated for the first time of her stay in this prison.

"HE WAS MY BEST FRIEND!" He roared and his voice broke, and his face broke and his heart broke.  
And he wept. He wept like never before. _Theo was his brother. He loved Theo. He'd lost Theo.  
_ Hermione caught him on reflex when he started to lose his sitting stance and he was crying in her shoulder, he was shaking with fury and _fucking hell everything's fucked up_, and she just held him and approved, and understood, and kept quiet.

They had fallen asleep on the foot of the bed, their bodies awkwardly tangled and desperate to cling to one another. For the first time in their lives, they were the same.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Dear Amanita Nightshade, I really liked your review and point of view so I decided to respond to you this way. I wanted to show that they were equally lost, but also to describe the main difference between two lost young people by writing that chapter, and the main difference is Hermione's ability to empathize and be a bigger person, while Draco had lost his empathy over time, even though we now he had it in himself when he couldn't kill Dumbledore and couldn't identify Harry at the Manor. Also, she's isolated from the outside world and can't quite grasp the bigger picture, she can only assume and suspect what's going on outside. Malfoy is not the main antagonist in this story, the main antagonist is society and his wrong upbringing, teaching him from his childhood some beliefs. Lastly, he _chose _to be a new leader because he knew the alternative would be a lost war and his and his family's ultimate death. This story will be the story of right and wrong, but mainly about human beings, very lost and confused. Thank you for your review, and thank you, all of the other reviewers, I'm really glad you like the story and think about it on a deeper level while reading it!

Chapter 7

When Hermione woke up the next day, it was barely sunrise, and the only things she noticed were her pitifully stiff shoulders and Malfoy's scent surrounding her. That was odd; mostly, she would wake up after him and he would be already gone when she became conscious. Right now she was lying in a very uncomfortable position, with her legs awkwardly folded near the edge of the bed, tangled with Malfoy's. They were lying horizontally in bed and he was hugging her awkwardly from behind, not looking comfortable either.

Hermione didn't want to acknowledge the fact that she enjoyed and missed human touch so much, that even he and his unbelievably soft hands were satisfying. She craved any kind of gentleness in her empty and cold survival so much that she became accustomed to his body close to her, and she just realized it now. She craned her neck to watch his face closely, cherishing the rare luxury of her freedom to roam with her eyes as much as she wanted while he was asleep.

His feathery hair was tousled, blond silky strands covering his small forehead and slightly darker brows. Longest of his fringe even touched his eyelids and long, weirdly dark lashes which were hiding his striking eyes. Everything on his face was wonderfully symmetric and pleasing for the eyes, from sharp cheekbones to the long and narrow nose, finishing with thin aristocratic lips. Everything was almost inhumanly perfect except those dark circles under his eyes and two little scars Hermione barely noticed in the weak morning light. One was on the tip of his nose, and another one on his left cheek.

Hermione didn't know how much time had passed while she was lazily tracing patterns on his face and neck with her eyes, not daring to lift even a finger, when she noticed him stir. She felt a twinge of panic for a moment, felt like she was intruding just by watching him and just wanted to pretend to sleep when he opened his eyes slowly and looked at her curiously.

He looked at her like a child then; perfectly relaxed and safe, like he had never in his life witnessed anything bad and evil. She only saw that look on him once before, when they consummated their marriage and he experienced his bliss. Hermione blushed on the thoughts invading her already muddled brain and averted her eyes.

But she had to glance at him again, when she felt his hand lift and his finger play with one of her tangled curls.

"Your hair looks awful," he whispered with a weak spark of laughter in his throat but she just scowled at him, "but it isn't terrible at the touch."

"It's the best I have." She shrugged and he actually smiled. Tiredly and without previous ease, but still.

"You're not scared of me anymore, are you?" He asked in the same quiet tone, as if trying not to disturb a veil of sleep threatening to cover them again.

"Never been, never will be," she answered, closing her eyes and trying to stretch delicately, but not to lose warmness of his body. "You should be scared of me, though."

It sounded almost... coquettish, not at all like real Hermione, and she didn't know why she had said it, but she meant it. Good food, clean air and time to think and research did wonders to her. She felt her power and spunk coming back and she loved it. She was ready to fight the world.

When she opened her eyes she saw Malfoy looking at her strangely, completely at loss of words. His eyes weren't so childish anymore, nor dead like the night before. They looked feral, something wild burning in them.

He breathed out heavily and she felt hot air burning her neck. The atmosphere of the room changed, it wasn't that sleepy anymore. It was intense and Hermione's insides churned, her body having some weird reaction to his closeness, which she had never felt before. For the first time, she noticed how nicely his body contrasted her own, how he was all hard and tall and his shoulders were wide against her soft, smaller frame.

It took a second for that body to jump and turn them over, making them both fall off the bed with Malfoy falling on top of her. She then felt something else big and hard against her and it didn't disgust her like before, it actually sent some weird tingling down her spine and up her lower abdomen.

His face was inches from her own and she shivered when she met his eyes, but looked at him defiantly, sticking to her word. _Not afraid_.

That was all she mustered to do before his hand flew to her hair, pulling it and pulling her head up to meet him halfway in a heated kiss. His lips were burning her own, scorching her with some mad animal instinct, it was so wild, so fiery and so different from anything she had ever experienced that she moaned in his mouth. She felt his body grinding against hers and she started to move too in that weird haze, desperate for more, more touch, more friction, more...

His hand flew to her arms and pinned them on the floor above her head, he pushed away from her and kneeled, still holding her arms.

"You don't want this." He whispered, now harshly, and his eyes took that dark shade they had every day.

"Wha-" she started, her breasts heaving with quick breaths, trying to deal with his sudden withdrawal.

He let go of her, stood up quickly and pulled her up to stand on weak and shaky legs.

She sat on the bed and watched him go around the room and dress in his uniform, his movements hasty and hands shaking slightly. He was quiet and she was still trying to comprehend what the fuck was going on, when he came to the door and on the exit simply said,

"Maybe you should be afraid of me." She looked at him questioningly and he spared her one short, desperate gaze.

"You don't want this." He repeated, rasped it painfully and closed the door after exiting.

The problem was, she was afraid. Because she wanted him.

* * *

The next few days dragged on and Hermione felt it immensely. She was very confused with Malfoy's behavior and couldn't quite comprehend his words, and it frustrated her deeply. He said she didn't want him as though he wished she wanted him, even though she for a fact knew she was a low, disgusting, dirty being in his eyes. So what did he want?

That little incident in the bedroom was explained easily- he was horny and she was there. So why did he choose not to act on his instinct? Maybe he returned to consciousness fully a little bit later and then remembered she was Hermione and he was repulsed of her. So she explained that oddness to herself too. But what about the third one? What about her wanton reaction and jelly legs and brain after he had left her alone? What about her unnaturally strong heartbeat, her blood boiling and her skin tingling because of his touch? She didn't want to understand that one. She decided that ignorance was a bliss and some things should simply never get uncovered.

Hermione didn't want to admit it to herself: she was terribly bored without him. After _the incident_, Malfoy decided not to speak to her anymore. He didn't teach her Russian anymore, and even though she had so called freedom to roam the estate and search the library, he didn't help her with wandless magic either. He simply disappeared and avoided her, not coming to their bed at nights and not bickering with her for the silly things. He disappeared and Hermione hated to admit that the bed was colder and the days were dreadfully longer.

The final blow was when the letter from St. Mungo's came, for Hermione's monthly exam. Narcissa brought it saying that this time, she would be accompanying Hermione to the hospital, because Draco was too busy. And the worst part was Narcissa's disappointment when they announced that Hermione was _still_ not pregnant. Then they started buzzing around her, checking her fertility and health and sent her home with disapproving looks, ordering her to try harder. Like it was her fault.

After the dreadful morning Hermione was already in a very irritated mood, being somehow rude to Narcissa and dismissing her request to spend some time in the parlor with her and her beloved Draco who was working _so_ hard these days.

Hermione bit her tongue not to curse the name of her son and declined hurriedly, retreating to her bedroom and taking delight in breaking one expensive vase by throwing it at the unbreakable window, then practised her wandless magic while repairing it. And then she threw it again.

All the ornaments in the bedroom were broken and repaired by the afternoon and when she was tired, she went to the kitchen to grab a quick lunch and see her only friends, those Muggleborn women who worked down there and respected her very much.

What she didn't expect when she went down there was Kate hurrying to her, with blotchy face and shaking hands, and hugging her tightly. She wept in Hermione's shoulder for a second, just enough for Hermione to notice all the other women looking at her with empathy.

"Kate? What's going on?"

"They... They will marr- marry me off, Hermione!" she wailed and Hermione froze.

"Who will marry you off? Kate- Kate please calm down, come on, sit here. Do you want a glass of water? Okay. Easy. Who wants to marry you off?"

"The Malfoy's, they-they said that Avery needs a wife and that he asked them to- to ask me to-" she couldn't finish, her shaky voice losing the battle with tears and uncontrollable cries of pain.

"Did you talk to him? When did this happen?" Her head was starting to hurt from anger. It was not good.

"N-no, I was bringing some groceries when he saw me, he was talking to master Malfoy and- and asked him when I was passing was I married. He said n-no and Avery said that he needed a wife because of-of a law and I don't... What will I do?!" The girl was spilling the water she was holding everywhere, her hands going white, matching her scared face.

Hermione was seething; Firstly, Avery could easily be the girl's father, and secondly, Malfoy was giving him his servant, as if it was nothing!

"I'll take care of it." Hermione barked and ran up the stairs, while the other women tried to comfort a poor girl.

She ran through the manor, not acknowledging passing men who looked at her oddly but paid her respect. She passed and ignored Narcissa, who told her that Malfoy was in the dining room with some of the men, so it would be better for her to wait.

She barged into the room and saw Malfoy sitting at the head of the table, drawing something on some map while the others, all in the same black robes stood around him and listened to his instructions. The murmur quieted up when she barged in and they all looked at her quizzically, with Malfoy raising his brows in shock at her sudden entrance.

"Mrs Malfoy, we're-" some man in his thirties tried to say something but she was quicker.

"Out."

"Excuse me?!"

"Out, all of you. Get out!" She raised her voice for an octave to show them she was serious, and all of them turned to Malfoy, not knowing what to do.

"You heard the lady, get out. The meeting is over." He gritted trough his teeth, not taking his icy cold eyes off Hermione.

His followers started scurrying away one by one and Malfoy was patiently waiting for the last one to leave, while Hermione visibly fumed. When they were finally alone in the room, _it_ began.  
"You didn't have enough, Malfoy? When will it stop?!" She screamed and he casted a Muffliato spell, frowning in confusion.

"First, I don't have a clue what you're babbling about, as usual. Second, what gives you the right to barge in here and command _my_ men?"

"Oh, you think you're sooo important, do you, Malfoy? You think you can easily act like a God and ruin innocent lives without consequences?!" Hermione screamed, her posture getting straighter and more aggressive with every word she said. "You think you can just marry off your servant, like she's just one of the millions, like she's a replaceable little thing which will just disappear when you don't need it anymore?"

"...Is this about your little Mudblood friend from the kitchens?" He acted calm even though she saw fury in his eyes and it infuriated her even more. All the acting, all the hypocrisy. She was sick of everything.

"Yes, it's about _my mudblood friend! _Do you have any humanity left, or you're just no different than Voldemort?! Do you know what will her life look like with that psychopathic maniac?! Or you just don't give a fuck, as long as your cowardly Pureblood arse is fine?!" He leapt from his chair so fast she didn't even have time to blink before he was in front of her, his mean look inches from her fiery eyes.

"Don't you ever, _ever_ compare me to that... being!" He barked and she flinched inwardly, but kept her stance.

"For fuck's sake Granger, I didn't know he wanted her, the law is on his side and I can't do shit! Nor do I care! If it isn't him it will be someone else and there's nothing we can do!"

"So you're just going to... let him take her? Just like that?" Hermione whimpered, forgetting her rage in the helplessness. Malfoy took a step from her and sighed, bowing his head in despair.

"It's not my law Granger, it's a necessity. I hate it too, but here we are."

"You're consciously ruining lives. You ruined mine, now hers, how many more?!" She stepped close to him, looking spitefully directly in his eyes.

"Listen here, you can't possibly lecture me on something you don't know shit about! I have a nation to lead, I have to please everyone, they wanted this, I'm-"

"You're a coward, Malfoy." She said coldly.

"You think you know everything, Granger, do you? Well guess what, this isn't McGonagal's lecture, this is real life and you can't prepare for it. Survive or die and fuck off with your patronizing when you don't. Know. Shit!" He punctuated the last words with shouts and she felt some sick satisfaction mixed with anger.

"I hate you so fucking much." She murmured, head held high, her lips just in line with his. So close.

"Likewise, wifey." He whispered, his breath mixing with hers, just a moment before capturing her lips with his, in yet another heated kiss.

He was familiar to her now, but still it was different than before. But she enjoyed it even more now, pouring all of her loathing and rage in that kiss, biting him, pulling his hair and making him growl. She hated him with such intensity that she wanted to kill him. Or fuck him senseless. Or both.

It looked like he was reading her mind, because before she knew it, his hands were on her shirt, tearing it open with buttons flying everywhere around the room. His lips were trailing fire down her neck and breasts, making her moan incoherently and biting her lip not to cry out his name.

Her hands instinctively undid his belt and she didn't know when did she get her courage while throwing his robe carelessly on the floor and taking off his black shirt, biting his shoulder with all the strength she could muster. He growled louder, took her by the hips and turned her around, making her bend over the table.

She didn't know what was going on behind her, nor did she care, she was too busy closing her eyes and feeling the sweet ache of need while his hands pulled her skirt up and his lips kissed one naked shoulder. Was she in hell or heaven, she didn't know then.

She could hear a zipper opening, could feel her underwear sliding down her legs, could feel something hot and hard at her entrance, but didn't want to turn around and visually accept it all. This way, it was more like an amazing dream.

And amazing it was, how nicely he fit in her, how it burned at first, just enough to remind her where she was and what was she doing, and she moaned, she wanted to experience something else instead of that horrible emptiness of her dreadful life.

And it burned, and it pleased, it was fast and hot and messy and he was growling in her ear and she was crying out and he was pulling her hair and he was kissing her, biting her, they were punishing each other and showing their animosity. And there it was, she felt it like a firework, like something bursting within her and his free hand flew to her clitoris, helping her get it stronger, and she came.

His hands were holding her desperately now, he was thrusting at even faster pace than before and she felt him pour his essence into her, just a couple of moments later.

Malfoy was breathing heavily and trying to calm down, holding her close to him until she moved. He blinked dazedly, looking ridiculous with his pants around his ankles and his shirt falling off his shoulders.

Hermione repaired her shirt, tucked it in her skirt and tried to calm down her impossible hair, looking at him with no shame whatsoever. Shame would come to her later, when she was alone with her thoughts and regrets. But one thing was true:

"I hate you even more now." She tried to say if venomously but it came out shaky, and he actually grinned and nodded.

"Likewise, wifey."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Hermione was confused and she loathed it. For the first time in her life, she didn't have a decent and stable plan, and she was going to have to wing it.

Malfoy was acting a little bit different lately, even more awkward and reserved than usual. She was grateful for that beacuse she felt the same way. Only thinking about their moment three days ago made her skin crawl, and unfortunately, it wasn't in disgust. He made her depend on him, her freedom depended on him, and the worst part was that now her pleasure depended on him too. She hated him for what he had done to her, taking advantage and dismissing her wishes. But was it really that way? He was following the law, yes, he married her against her will, yes, but he didn't really make it harder than it had to be. He certainly was nice because he didn't rape her or beat her bloody. And he actually delayed their copulation for as much as the law allowed. And now she was mad at herself for not being hard enough on him. She didn't want to lie to herself- it is what it is, she would say simply whenever she felt the ache between her legs by just thinking about him. It was the only nice thing she felt in a very long time, it made her feel less a thing and more a human, and she came to peace with it.

She had bigger problems now. Her house-elf came to tell her that Malfoy requested her presence immediately while she was in the bathroom, and she quickly put on her clothes and ran down the stairs to the parlour, ignoring uncomfortable twist in her stomach.

When she saw him, he was standing by the window, looking at the bleak sky and frowning. Christmas came and went and there was no snow. Terrible winter of a terrible year.

He didn't notice her until she cleared her throat.

"You called for me?" She asked and watched his face change from gloom to some warm expression changing back to his usual lethargic state.  
"Yes, I wanted to tell you that the wedding of Avery and that... friend of yours is in two days. So in case you wanted to say goodbye, go now before she leaves." Malfoy uttered those words looking very uncomfortable, probably because he actually did something nice for Hermione voluntarily. She couldn't believe he remembered. It was one of the rare acts of kindness in her life and it hit her hard.

She tried to thank him but the lump in her throat didn't let her, so she simply nodded, feeling resignation and despair for her poor friend.  
When she turned to leave, Malfoy stopped her.

"If you don't want to, you don't have to go to the wedding." She halted at his words and looked at him incredously. Hermione knew their position, she assumed that every little step he took was recorded and analysed in the papers. Was he really willing to risk a blow to his reputation by going to the function all alone, only to make it easier for her?  
She felt miserable for losing her only friend, and now she felt even worse knowing that this man was her only consolation. And the worst part was, he did a decent job.

"No, I'll go. But thank you." She started saying it clearly but halted and felt one tear rolling down her cheek. She wasn't even ashamed of it.  
He strode to her, getting close enough to look deeply in her tortured eyes, and for a moment she saw a flick of some emotion, it could possibly have been empathy.  
"Don't mention it." He whispered and reached with his hand for her face and her breath hitched, expecting his touch, almost craving it, but he changed his mind and let his hand drop by his side.

Hermione left without a word, not even wanting to think about his actions. She just knew she had to come up with some plan, fast.

She found Kate in one of the servants' rooms behind the kitchen and saw her looking paler and weaker than ever.  
She tried to talk some sense into a poor girl, tried to encourage her, and all the while little folders in the back of her head were trying to remember all the information she had on magical transportation nowadays. And it clicked.

"Kate, Kate honey, I will get you out of there, you have to believe me. Actually, I will get us both out of there, we will go to Switzerland, just trust me alright?"  
"But how? We don't have our wands to apparate, the floo is forbidden and easily tracked, portkeys too, there's no way, Hermione!" Kate wailed and trembled in Hermione's embrace.

"We will have to risk it. All you have to do is to disappear before the wedding, and be sure that someone sees you." Kate looked at her puzzled, probably thinking that Hermione finally became completely deranged.

"Look, you have two days before the wedding, just snoop around and see where the apparition room is and run there five minutes before the ceremony. I will meet you there just when everybody realizes you're not showing up. Got it?"  
Kate nodded, too numb to give a proper answer, but it was enough for Hermione. Her plan was stupid and nearing suicide, but they had to try.

They hugged once more before all the other servants came and Hermione went back to the library, now concentrating on wandlessly summoning stuff.

After that especially tiring day, Hermione craved her comfortable bed more than anything. Malfoy didn't come to the bedroom after the incidents in the room and in the dining room, and she didn't really miss him. She was alone either way, no matter was he physically there for her or not. But that terrible day when she made a big decicion and plan of escape, and when she decided to possibly get herself and her now good friend unintentionally killed, she needed a comfort, and weirdly, she wanted his presence.  
And by the sheer miracle, he decided to join her in bed that night.

When she came out from the bathroom, only in one of those satin night gowns, he was already in the bed, half naked and reading some letter. Hermione ignored a jolt in her belly on the sight of him and tried to control her roamy eyes when his grey ones directed their piercing look at her.  
"Russians. We'll respond to that one tomorrow, I'm really not in the mood for writing and you'll do well enough." She only managed a nod when he threw a letter on the night table.

"You can come to bed, Granger, I won't bite unless you want me to." He said it with clear joking tone and Hermione rolled her eyes at the innuendo, somehow feeling more relaxed.

She laid next to him and he turned the lights off with a wave of his hand, and the nervousness crept on her because of his closeness. She wasn't in the mood for any funny business but knew that if he wanted it, it would be her responsibility to provide for him.  
What surprised her for the seemingly hundredth time that weird day was his hand snaking up her body and pulling her close to him, spooning her from behind and blowing soft gentle breaths in her hair and neck.  
"I expect your hair to choke me in my sleep one day." He whispered and sighed contently, Hermione easily adapted to the new situation, even enjoying it a little, not that she would admit it to herself.

"There's an idea." She whispered back and he snorted.  
"Why aren't you disgusted with me anymore?" She bite the bullet. She had to know.  
He was silent a couple of moments before simply responding,

"Oh, I am. You're utterly despicable and I hate you." And he pulled her even tighter against him and now it was her turn to snort.

"I hate you too, Malfoy." She yawned in the middle of her statement and was already drifting to sleep when she felt his lips kiss her shoulder blade gently.  
If someone could see them in that moment, it seemed like they were in love.

* * *

The day of the wedding ceremony came and Hermione couldn't control her raging nerves as soon as she opened her eyes. Malfoy woke up just minutes after her, probably when he heard her toothbrush falling from her shaking hands and her annoyed cursing. She woke up pretty early and managed only a couple of hours of sleep and she still felt tired, but on edge. It was only a dawn, probably around six in the morning and she imagined Malfoy not being very happy if he heard her, but she didn't care. They were back in their little sleeping arrangement and Hermione couldn't lie to herself that she enjoyed his warm and firm body near her.

When she came back into the bedroom Malfoy was pouting at her, his hair all tousled and eyes swollen from broken sleep.

"Are you mental? What are you doing at this hour?" He managed to rasp and she only sighed, not in the mood to talk to him, or anyone. Adrenaline was already pumping within her and she hoped that something big was going to happen that evening.

Hermione went to the window and looked at the still nature down in the gardens. Everything was so still that she almost believe that they were the only living people in the world. And she smiled bitterly; it was almost true, since her world was reduced to the isolation. When he called her to get back to bed and stop being weird, she felt a pang of something unexplainable in her stomach.  
It was the last day of her imprisonment and she almost felt sorry for the plan runni bg. _Almost_.

It was like she started to think of the man before her as a friend, companion in that hell and she looked at him with strange longing in her eyes. Like she would miss him. Yeah, right.

He got some unreadable expression on his face on seeing her mood and beckoned her to bed. When she wanted to lie down he stopped her with a hug and they sat there, clinging to each other while the sun slowly rose.

They had sex that morning. It was really more like love making than anything, but Hermione didn't want to label it that way. She was rocking slowly in his lap, too scared to look into his entrancing eyes. So she looked at his hair, his shoulders, his neck and collar bones, she clung to him while they were finding their sweet release snd then lingered some more in his arms. She allowed herself that much. It was her saying goodbye.

When he kissed her after it was done, it was gentle snd slow and it didn't sent hot shivers up her spine. It was too soft and feathery for that. And he looked at her oddly, which actually scared her a little. He looked like he knew.

* * *

The time for a wedding ceremony came quickly and Hermione didn't even pay attention to how she looked. She didn't want to tire herself even one bit about it so she simply called for the elves to do whatever they wanted. She reconned they did a good job, because Malfoy was looking at her silver long dress with open hunger, like he wanted to rip it off her. She knew that look, she induced it a couple of times before.

When he started towards the fireplace she stopped him, trying to ask him gently and lovingly to apparate, not sounding like her usual spunky self at all. He frowned a little at her tone.

"Why apparate when we can floo there?"

"I don't want to ruin my dress." Great quick thinking, she praised herself.

He looked at her strangely again, as if he wanted to ask her something more, but gave up, took her hand and his wand and spun them around.

_So this is it, this is the room. _Hermione thought to herself when they arrived and there were already people saying hello.

They led them through the manor to the big ballroom and the usual chatter before the wedding was boring as always, Hermione knew all the people and hated them with great intensity. She ignored Bellatrix' sinister glares across the room and even managed not to punch ugly-faced Parkinson when she sneered at her. Draco was talking something to her and their fellow Slytherins and Hermione tuned it all out, waiting for it to happen.

And it really did happen, moments later.

Avery was standing at the altar, ugly as ever and everyone waited for the bride to come... except she wasn't going to. Everyone started to murmur quietly and after a few minutes people started to get up from their seats. Hermione glanced at her husband who was talking to Zabini but casted frequent looks at her and when he got up from his chair and turned to say hello to some stranger, she used the opportunity to get up too and run.

She didn't know where did she find strength and speed, but she pushed people standing confused around her and sprinted, not turning around but knowing for a fact that someone, probably Malfoy was following her.

One hallway, one staircase, another hallway and she was there. She burst into a room where they apparated and saw Kate in a wedding gown, pale and trembling waiting for her.

"Hermione. I- watch out!" She screamed and Hermione ducked just in time for a spell to miss her. And on the other side of a wand was... Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Well well well, isn't it a runaway bride and her mudblood little friend" She cooed sickly , twirling her wand.

"Draco honey, they're here!" The bitch called behind her and Hermione knew this was the moment.  
She stood still and concentrated. And just in time when Draco's footsteps were heard in that hallway, Hermione grinned at Bellatrix, who turned just in time and started to rise her wand.

Hermione did a little movement with her hand, as if she was beckoning something, and the wand flew from Bellatrix' hand, leaving her gaping.

Hermione jumped and caught it quickly and she knew she had to be fast, but she couldn't resist it. Just when Malfoy showed up on the doorframe and froze in shock on the scene awaiting him, Hermione turned Bellatrix' wand at the loathed bitch and shouted _"Avada Kedavra_!"

Bellatrix died at the hand of the Mudblood, scared of her and with shock written over her face. And that was Hermione's victory. She stood there just for a second, watching her dead body hit the floor but when she heard more footsteps, she woke up from her little trance.  
She tried to reach Kate who ran to her, but Malfoy was quicker. In that daze and mess he forgot his magic and simply jumped on Hermione, pulling her backwards and not letting her touch Kate.

"No, Kate! Get off me! Kate!" Hermione screamed but she heard shouts around her and even saw some spells barely missing Kate, so she did the only thing she could. She threw the wand and Kate caught it in her trembling hands.

"No! Hermione, I can't leave you!" Kate screamed but Hermione interrupted her, all the while trying to get free from Malfoy's grasp.

"Just go!" Hermione screamed and three more spells flew in Kate's direction. But it was too late. A fraction of a second later, and Kate was gone. She escaped.

Hermione couldn't breathe and Malfoy was not letting her go, while the shouts and panic were rising around them when they saw Bellatrix' corpse.

"Who killed Lestrange?"

"It was Master's wife!"

"Oh my...!" Everything was so loud and chaotic until Malfoy barked and shut them all up.

"My aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange was killed. Kate Johnson, the mudblood girl and my ex servant killed her. Do try to find her."

"But master, I saw your wife-"

"You saw wrong. Call the Aurors and inspect the crime scene. The wedding is cancelled." He barked with impeccable authority in his voice, took his wife's hand and apparated home.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I'm so, so sorry for delivering this chapter so late, but first I had some midterm exams on college and then some other chores _and then _my laptop died so I had to rewrite the whole chapter when I bought a new one. Sending love, hope that you'll like it!

Chapter 9

Malfoy was furious. He was pacing so quickly, it seemed to Hermione that he would wear a hole in the floor. She was sitting on their bed, still in her dress, afraid to move or make any sound. He still didn't address her and behaved like she wasn't even in the room. The only thing which gave his mood away was his heavy breathing and occasional hold of his aching temples. She waited.

After a couple of long minutes, he finally looked at her like she was some dangerous beast prepared to jump him, first in shock, then in confusion and even in some amazement.

"You... I... Can you just... How?" He managed to rasp his words and Hermione almost smiled. She'd finally managed to leave him completely speechless.

"What?" She asked simply, so dazed with all the events of the evening that she felt a little numb. She didn't care about anything anymore. She failed her only escape attempt and knew this was the end of her life probably. Oh well; at least she tried.

"How on earth did you take Bella's wand?" She opened her mouth to answer him but he interrupted her, clearly talking to himself.

"I knew you were good at wandless magic, but that good? You think you planned all of this well? Well, it certainly was the best plan with your sources but..." He was murmuring like some lunatic and she just kept quiet, trying not to cringe at the stupidity of it all.

"You chose the wand smartly, of course. Bellatrix' wand doesn't have a tracing spell on it, so wherever you went it would be hard to find you. I mean, who would've even thought that someone could disarm the most powerful witch in Britain? We were so careless with her..." He finally stopped his crazed mumbling and looked at her like he was seeing her for the first time in his life.

"Where did your friend go?"

She just looked at him indignantly.

"Where did she apparate, Granger?" He growled and she just shrugged.

"Oh, I know you know, you crazy little bitch." He murmured and looked directly in her eyes, concentrating. He was a very skilled Legilimens, and he didn't care how much he hurt her with his violent entrance into her mind. He felt it, he felt her fight, he felt her trying to get him out but he kept trying to go in. But then something weird happened. He started to roam her brain, and all the things he saw were her reading in his library, her talking to his mother, her fighting with him about some slur about Mudbloods, her enjoying his hands on her body, her afraid to look into his eyes, her excited to feel him inside... She managed to distract him and Draco felt some sharp sting in his temples, so hard that he had to get out of her mind.

Hermione wasn't so good at Occlumency. She could never completely shut her brain off, she could never build a stable wall around her memories, but she learned how to keep important information buried so deep in her brain that even she had problems to recall them. She was taught that while she was in the Order; after all, she had to learn how to shield all the secrets she knew about Harry.

When Malfoy got out of her mind she was breathing heavily, feeling exhausted. He was good at this, actually the best Legilimens she had ever seen. But she was better.

Malfoy was massaging his forehead, also breathing heavily and loathing that damned woman more than ever before. He should have let his men kill her. Why did he save her? It was some weird, impulsive decision and he wasn't prone of doing _impulsive_. The thought of seeing her dead shook him to his core and it surprised him so much that he didn't even have the time to think, he simply did it. He lied his most loyal people for this Mudblood. He wasn't even sorry she killed aunt Bella. He didn't care about that deranged woman, not ever in his life, but especially after the rise of Voldemort and her pushing his family over the edge, into the abyss of his sickness. Lucius was at fault for that too, but she was the one to bring that vile snake into their home, she was the one to propose for Draco to become a Death Eater. She was the one to turn one teenage boy into a murderer.

Draco exhaled heavily and looked at Granger. She suddenly looked so pathetic in that lavish dress, like some child playing with mother's stuff. In that moment, she didn't look like someone who just killed one of the most powerful witches of this century. She didn't look like someone who ached to run away from him so much, that she was ready to die for it. She simply looked tired and ready for her punishment. Just like a child.

"You'll never tell where she'd run off to?" He tried again, even though he knew the answer.

"So you can kill her for something she didn't do? Not likely." She said her first words in an hour, feeling soreness in her dry throat.

"You'd rather I kill you?" Malfoy gritted through his teeth, and felt fury rising within him once again, when he saw her shrug. She hated living there so much, she'd rather be dead.

"Do you know how lucky you are to be here, alive?! Do you know what would your life look like if you'd married anyone else?!" He shouted, unable to control his temper.

She had decency to avert her empty gaze. But her next words killed him a little.

"Lucky for a prisoner." She whispered, somehow looking detached from everything around her and he felt something terrible, something much worse than usual anger in his chest. Something constricted. Something started to hurt.

Losing all his strength to look at her broken form, he looked through the window. It was starting to snow. So perfect, so unreal and beautiful. Untouched and unsoiled.

"What will happen to me now?" She managed to croak, ignoring pang of something stirring within her while she watched him watch the snow. He looked so perfect, so unreal and beautiful. Except those eyes. Those eyes were soiled with some deep and dark emotion she wasn't able to comprehend.  
When he looked at her again, she had an enormous need to hug him, bury her face in his familiar neck and cry herself to sleep. She'd killed a person after so long. She bloodied her hands again. She was afraid of her own thoughts right then. And Malfoy was something real, solid and strong. He was her safety net and her executor. Heaven and hell.

"You will go to sleep, scandalized with the behavior of your servant. It was a tiring day." She understood. He was definitely going to pretend that it hadn't happened. He was going to save her.

Hermione half expected that he was going to join her in their bed, still not completely aware of the things that had happened, but he started towards the door.

"You're not the only prisoner here, Granger." He said quietly, with some weird melancholy lacing his voice. She felt like his piercing eyes were scanning her through her own, like he was staring deep into her soul just by looking at her. And then he disappeared and closed the door behind him.

* * *

That night was becoming one of the most tiring ones in his life. After the especially frustrating talk with Granger, he headed straight to the Ministry, to try and use all of his powers to hide the evidence of her stupid crime. He was one of the most important people in the modern wizarding society, yes, but the law had to be obeyed. But he was a Malfoy, and even though he wasn't very proud of his name after his father's misdeeds, he was still aware of his cunning and strong intellect, and he was ready to use all of his abilities. He found those two stupid wizards who actually saw Hermione killing Lestrange easily; they were his people and right now every single one of them was either in the Ministry or in search for escaped Mudblood. Luckily for Draco, those two were in one of the Auror's offices, ready to be interrogated as the only witnesses, except for him of course. But nobody dared to disturb the almighty Master, not when he didn't see it convenient, so he wan't called to the interrogation, of course. He ushered the Aurors outside saying he wanted to look deeper into the crime against his beloved aunt, and just when they obliviously closed the door, he wasted no time and quickly changed the memories of the two idiots. He didn't use the Confundus charm. He simply erased their memories of that moment, planting into their minds much of wine consummation and mixing it with brandy. He smiled at himself unconsciously and called the Aurors back inside, convincing them that he had already finished the job and the two were useless and drunk stupid. He even managed to look angry for wasting time, saying that he was the third witness and he saw his Mudblood servant killing Bellatrix, and that he simply wanted to see why they said it was his wife.

The Aurors kept quiet, but one of them dared to look at him suspiciously. It was a stupid cover, he knew that, but he didn't have the time to persuade them more.

"Look, I saw the Mudblood Kate killing my aunt, I want her found alive and brought to me. I want to personally avenge Bellatrix Lestrange. Don't waste my time with these petty technicalities when you have a murderer on the run. I will send you my memories of the event first thing in the morning," _when I change them completely_, he wanted to add, "but now I have to deal with other problems first. Got it?"

They only nodded, staying quiet and submissive. Just like he wanted them. He put a mask of a very perturbed man on and hurried out of the office, now trying to avoid all the reporters waiting for him in the hallway. _For fuck's sake, it's the middle of the night, do these people ever sleep?!_

He stopped trying to run away when he came to peace with the fact that they wouldn't leave him alone, so he gave a quick and messy statement about the Ministry search for the deranged Mudblood.

* * *

It was seven in the morning when he finished changing his memory and he was looking at the owl carrying a vial off into the distance.

He was in his father's study, for the first time in years. He hated the place. It reminded him too much of his childhood, of his father locked up in there working, of him going in there only when he was called to receive his punishments for not being the best student, not being the best seeker, not being the best Death Eather.

It was almost poetic, how he braved to come in there only when he finally managed to best everyone else. He firmly believed that people simply saw in him what they wanted to see and he just acted on it and for Draco it really wasn't that big of a deal. When they wanted a leader, the got a leader. When they wanted a tyrant, they got a tyrant. And all of them were sheep. All of the Pureblood ones, anyway. Those Mudbloods, they just had something in them, something wild and impossible to tame, something akin to freedom even when they were forced to be a lower breed. And Purebloods were afraid. And _he_ was afraid. So the best course of action was to simply make them be servants, wives and controllable house beings. He knew that. It was just that after everything, especially after that night, he didn't really believe it.

His head was continuing to ache.

"Draco?" He heard a familiar voice of his mother just before she entered the study in all her grace. Mornings really suited her. He admired the elegance of his mother, her readiness to be calm and collected in any situation. The woman was born ready.

"Yes?" he barely spoke. He was _exhausted_.

"What are you doing in- you didn't even go to sleep, didn't you?" He heard a well-known reprimand in her voice, and saw her critically looking at his disheveled dress robes and messy hair.

"No, I- I had to go to the Ministry." He uttered, realizing that she had just woken up moments before and probably didn't hear about the ruckus. How was he supposed to tell her that her sister was killed by his wife, he didn't know. Well, better him than Daily Prophet, anyway.

"What did they need you for in the middle of the night?" He heard doubt and dread in her voice.

"Mom... Maybe it's better for you to sit down." Narcissa paled, but obeyed.

He had to do it. "Bellatrix was killed." He said quietly, summoning all the courage he had to look into her eyes.

Narcissa blinked, keeping the blank face on, but one tear rolled down her cheek.

"Who-...?" She croaked and he sighed. He still didn't know if he should lie his mother about her sister's death, but the words tumbled out of his mouth.

"It was our servant Kate, she-"

"Don't lie to me." Narcissa interrupted icily. "It was Hermione, wasn't it?!" She whispered and Draco looked down. He wasn't good at lying his mother.

"The girl's fire." She said and Draco looked at her in awe.

"She killed a demon, Draco. A small Mudblood girl killed a demon." Her voice broke and her face contorted into a painful, ugly expression.

Draco froze, not knowing what to do with himself.

"I love my sister, but I know what she was. I know that she didn't love anyone besides power and glory. And I know that I will never, _never _forgive her for putting you through all of it and ruining your life." Narcissa suddenly stood up, her grim expression the only telling sign of her grief and rage.

"You're Malfoy, Draco. Don't be a Black. Don't hate your family like we do. Protect it." She whispered and turned to leave, leaving Draco completely speechless.

"I reckon you took care of everything?" She looked at him sharply when she was at the door and he managed to nod. "Good boy."

Narcissa Malfoy left the room, carrying with her a whirlwind of terrible emotions of her pain and anger. How much did she actually grieve for her sister was a mistery to anyone but her own self. She wept in her pillow the whole day and following night.

* * *

Draco managed to stay in his father's study just an hour more, contemplating his mother's words before going to bed. He was in desperate need for sleep, and for some reason which he didn't want to contemplate, he went straight for his and Hermione's bedroom. He found her weeping on the floor and sighed, detached from everything due to his serious lack of sleep. His muddled brain thought it was a great idea to simply scoop her up, ignoring her scared expression and carry her to bed, curling beside her trembling form and stroking her shoulder while he slowly drifted to sleep. If she didn't wanted to be there, well, too bad for her. Because he knew he wanted her right there beside him.

He wasn't aware how much that simple act of kindness calmed Hermione's raging nerves. She wasn't brave anymore. All of her courage dissipated with life of that psychotic woman. But still, it had been so long since her last kill. And she hated taking someone else's life. She hated being someone's god and punishment. She didn't want that kind of the power. And every single one horrible person she killed was still playing with her bruised conscience. Malfoy was helping her so much in that moment. He was so merciful to remind her that maybe she wasn't a monster, that maybe she was unlike Bellatrix. That maybe killing someone so ugly and evil was nothing more than a good deed.

She fell asleep with that thought calming her and when she woke up it looked like it was afternoon. Malfoy was softly snoring in her ear, his breath calming her racing mind, and when she slowly turned she saw the source of her interrupted sleep. There on the window was a strange-looking, small bird carrying a little peace of parchment. It was pale brown and it definitely wasn't even similar to owls.

Hermione frowned, slowly getting up, careful not to disturb a sleeping form beside her and very slowly opened the window. She barely managed to take a folded peace of parchment from the bird when it quickly flied off, not waiting for an answer.

_That's weird_, Hermione thought to herself while looking at the thing in her hand. It wasn't parchment, she realized then. It was a lined paper, ripped from a notebook. _Muggle_.

Hermione's heart raced when she quickly unfolded the paper. It simply said:

''LL, NL.

Go to the young widow.

Sending love from Toblerone place."

She had read it a couple of times more before simply producing a blue flame and setting it on fire. It was clearly a message from Kate. She used a Muggle brand of chocolate to describe it, knowing that the wizards don't have a clue what it is.

So she managed to survive. Hermione smiled to herself, but the rest was troubling her. What did those first letters mean? And who was the widow?

Hermione's train of thought was interrupted with the deep, croaky voice of her husband.  
"What are you doing there? Did I trust you not to throw yourself out the window only for you to do it now?" He said it and yawned and Hermione turned to look at him, acting sleepy and melancholic.

"Nothing. I needed some fresh air. It stopped snowing." She said and went to the bathroom. Draco frowned at the snowy landscape and turned on the other side, ready to sleep just a little bit more.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"You have to show up on the funeral tomorrow."

After Hermione's fiasco of an escape attempt and killing of Bellatrix Lestrange, hours were drawing scarily long. After that sleepless night and the next weird day when Hermione got that odd message from Kate, the evening was unnaturally peaceful. Malfoy was gone most of the time but when the evening turned into a night, and then into a late, cold hour, he got back into the bedroom to talk to her. Actually, this was the first real talk between the couple after everything.

The atmosphere in the room turned chill and her loud mind got even louder when she finally gave up on reading some book and looked at him shocked.

"You'll seriously make me go to the funeral of the woman I murdered?" Hermione was proud of herself. She sounded calm, if not a little cold and couldn't even believe it herself. She was becoming a good actress. She was scared of herself.

"If you don't, it will be even more suspicious, or worse, it would only confirm the fact that you're the actual murderer." Malfoy said and looked through the window. The whole time since that catastrophe, Malfoy avoided her eyes. She wasn't sure how she felt about it, but it wasn't very pleasant. "If you're playing a game, play it 'til the end, Granger." He added and it sent chill down her spine. He was too close to the truth. He was probably oblivious, but he was close and he was right. If she was going to do this, she had to finish it.

"You're right." She admitted, voice laced with annoyance. That was when he looked at her for the first time. Bleak, tired grey eyes were now filled with wonder.

"Of course I am. I'm always right." Malfoy responded and Hermione couldn't control her raging nerves anymore. She rolled her eyes and snorted loudly and the atmosphere was shifted to some easier tone.

"Be ready tomorrow by nine. I'm going to finish all the preparations now, so good night." He turned to go, and Hermione squashed that disappointment she was feeling when they weren't sharing bed. But she suddenly remembered something. _Young widow._

"Wait, Malfoy-" She jumped from the bed, unconsciously, as if she was ready to jump him if it would stop him from leaving. He looked at her questioningly when she got close and Hermione felt some weird calmness radiating off his body. She ignored her instinct to proceed and pull him to her and took a step back.

"Is there anyone else who died that night?"

He frowned at her, lines covering his porcelain forehead and making him look older, and somehow more dangerous.

"No... My people don't have a habit to die on me, Granger. We're not at war. Nobody died except Nott and now aunt Bella." Malfoy sliced his statement word by word, showing how much that question got to him, but Hermione ignored that. _Nott. Of course._

"Why do you care, anyway? You got what you wanted." His eyes turned to the slits while he watched her with barely concealed suspicion and annoyance.

"No reason, it would be just easier to pretend to be shook if I knew there was someone's, _anyone_ else's funeral tomorrow. This way I will have to keep myself from dancing on the bitch's grave." Hermione quickly lied and covered it with a dose of ruthlessness and irony. She was way past joy on seeing Lestrange's dead body, but that was beside the point. She only knew that she was lucky Malfoy didn't kill her in that moment.

His bleak eyes turned to storms and he opened his mouth to spit out something probably very vile on her behavior, buy he decided to keep quiet. He turned and left without a word, leaving Hermione alone and very apathetic to everything happening around her. She was just _so_ tired.

* * *

Hermione chose black knee length dress for the special occasion. She even found a hat with black veil, to cover her grief-stricken eyes. _As if_.

She was in a very bad mood as soon as she got up, knowing what was awaiting and what was her role. The funeral of that crazy bitch was going to be anything but private and Hermione knew that she had to be a good little wife, following her grieving husband and playing his emotional support.

Malfoy was waiting for her in the hallway, wearing some expensive black suit. He even got his hair slicked and was already prepared for the day with his proud and serious stance. Hermione could swear he didn't give a fuck about that woman, no matter how close family she was. She knew that he was furious at himself for allowing Hermione so much freedom and for letting her manipulate him to become more powerful witch and that was all. Death of Bellatrix, by the look of it was just one casualty more to deal with. So Hermione didn't pity him. Not like when Nott had died.

Hermione didn't know what to do with herself but Malfoy just cast her one infuriated glance and took her hand. He apparated them onto the graveyard, probably the Black family sanctuary and there were already many people there. Journalists didn't have the decency to leave them alone the whole time but a couple of whispers from Malfoy to his men solved that, when they went to play the role of bodyguards.

Hermione stood as stonily as possible behind Draco who was in the first row with his weeping mother. She was trying to blend into the mass of people and look as ordinary as everyone else and it was going pretty well until she saw her.

Young Nott's widow, tall and proud in some black coat, with her beautiful blonde hair cascading her back was looking at her, piercing her with her eyes. Hermione nodded in recognition and made it her mission to get close to the woman.

And when everybody got busy listening to the Warlock holding the speech, she inched to the woman and the woman gave her a small smile.

"We have to talk, I have to explain something to you. I found a way, just go with the flow." Hermione nodded for her to continue.

"I've got Greengrass sisters on our side, so when I invite them, you and Narcissa for tea, you'll come. Got it?" Hermione gaped. _Our side? There's.. There's finally our side?_

"Understood? Good. Neville said you're very smart. Now it's clear why Malfoy isolated you so much, we couldn't find a way to get in touch with you." The blonde whispered and Hermione's heart leaped. Neville was alive and well. And it looked like he was forming some kind of resistance.

"Now go, you're part of the family. They'll want to give you condolences. Nice work of killing the bitch though. My condolences, Ella Nott.'' The girl whispered and Hermione almost snorted, but remembered herself and turned to look if someone had heard. But nobody was paying attention and Hermione quickly strolled back behind Malfoy, not missing when the girl, Ella, slowly drew a wand from her sleeve and lifted the charm. So nobody could have heard, thank Merlin. But where did she get the wand? Hermione felt a little jealous and wanted to trade places with the girl so badly.

The rest of the funeral went pretty ordinarily, and Malfoy was too busy with guests and his depressed mother to pay attention to Hermione, so she gratefully trailed behind him and managed to play her role.

* * *

The next couple of days went fairly well. Hermione was drawn mostly to herself, as the rest of the Malfoy Manor inhabitants, and she rarely saw them. Actually, now that she thought about it, she saw Narcissa only once when they passed each other on the hallway and the woman simply nodded at her, like she would upon seeing some neighbor. She didn't look very well then. She was paler than usual, her hair was up in some sloppy chignon and there could be seen black circles under her eyes. It was unusual, to see normally so gracious and collected woman in such state. Hermione even felt a little bad for being the source of woman's misfortune, but couldn't much dwell on that. She didn't want to feel guilty for anything. She did what was necessary.

The invitation for tea wasn't sent yet and Hermione was trying to be patient. She drowned her restlessness and curiosity in books and her nerves were on the verge of breaking from boredom and expectation.

She saw Draco for the first time a week after Bellatrix' funeral when he barged into the bedroom while she was getting out of the bathroom, clad in a towel, so the first words which were said between the two were "Oof!" and "Shit! Why don't you knock?!"

"I won't knock in my bedroom, Granger!" He barked and couldn't control his eyes, which were trailing down her form and appreciated the view. Hermione blushed, not knowing why since he already saw her naked and there was nothing new, but since then it seemed to her that the decades had passed.

She was so busy with killing Bellatrix, dealing with guilt and wondering about resistance that she had totally forgot about him, or about how much she missed his body. And now, when he was looking at her like he wanted to devour her, she got reminded about those facts and felt familiar ache between her legs for him.

But then she saw barely noticeable bloody stains on his robes and blood on his hands, and she noticed generally chaotic state in which was he.

"Malfoy, what happened?! Whose blood is that?! Are you hurt?!"  
"No, it's not mine, Granger. Move, I have to go to the bathroom." He snapped out of his fantasy upon hearing her voice and ran to the bathroom.

But she wasn't going to let him be.

"Whose blood is it? Did you murder someone?!"

He whirled around and looked at her furiously.

"So what if I did?! This", he pointed to the discarded robe and than to his still stained hand "is one of my men dying on me. Something bad's going on out there, Granger. Well, bad for me."

"You mean like... riots?" Hermione croaked, eyes still transfixed on the last drops of blood going down the drain of the sink.

"Not riots, at least not _yet_. More like attacks. And I don't have a clue where to begin and how to end it." He whispered, and for the first time since being his prisoner, Hermione heard fear in his voice.

She kept quiet, not knowing what to say to him. She knew that she should feel elated, knowing that there was hope for this horror to end. But somewhere deep inside she felt terrified. Hermione's happiness was long forgotten thing, far away in the past and she got used to it. But life with this man wasn't happy, it was weird and unhealthy and... pretty much better than she expected. And no matter how much she wanted to run away from that house, she didn't want him killed. And by the looks of it, there was a chance for that to happen too.

"Did you catch the killer?" She managed to say when he turned to leave the bathroom.

"I managed to kill him before he ran away. Some half-blood child, just out of Hogwarts. The rest of them, maybe five or six people apparated as soon as I arrived. Maybe I'll be next." Hermione heard a glitch in his voice on the last part and closed her eyes in resignation, "But you'll just benefit from that. I don't know why I'm even telling you this."  
"No, Malfoy, I-", he marched out of the bedroom before Hermione had the time to say anything.

The morning rays caught Hermione drowsy, moody and tired. She had another night full of poor, barely managed sleep and her nightmares were more intensive than ever. She dreamed about Harry, Ron, Ginny, Molly, her parents, everyone she loved. They called for her, begged her to come closer to them, they waved her and looked blissfully happy. And there was Draco, looking at her with his dead eyes, trying to touch her with his bloody hands and dying on her feet.

When she woke up in sweat she went to the bathroom, then asked her elf to bring her breakfast in bed. She wanted to pamper herself that whole rainy day, and she already had some very lively plans consisting of her roaming the library for hours. She knew Narcissa would be somewhere far away in the house, but she didn't have a clue where Malfoy was. Was he out there, torturing every half-blood he could find for revenge? Doubtfully. Was he at the Ministry, covering-up his own murder, or that kind of crime was forgivable for him? That was probable.

Hermione berated herself for even thinking about that man and tried to ease her mind while reading some book about potions. It was a fascinating subject for her and she finally had all the freedom to read about it without any interruption. After finishing one especially interesting article on poisons, she went back to the shelf to take some more books.

She was so deep in thought that she didn't hear the door closing behind her, she didn't hear the creak of the wooden floor from hurried steps, and she definitely didn't see the shadow looming behind her, before grabbing her around the waist.

Hermione wanted to scream, but her first reflex was to quickly turn around and face her attacker. But he held her tightly between his body and the shelve and whispered in her ear,

"Don't be afraid."

Hermione knew that voice very well. She knew those hands and that delightful scent and that warmness radiating off his body too. It made her tremble with need. It was her husband, the bearer of her darkest sin and most primal needs. She still couldn't quite connect in her brain that Malfoy from her everyday life and this Malfoy here, making her body ache and skin hum with desire.

His soft lips pressed at the nape of her neck, down her shoulder and right on the line between her skin and dress. She was wearing one casual black dress which was buttoning down on the front, _so easy to take off. Like she knew._

He was now nipping at her ear while he skillfully unbuttoned the dress, looking down at her breasts and growling. He was still behind her and Hermione felt his desire pressing on her back and she knew she needed him like before, like they were wild animals trapped in their own skin. She finally managed to turn around and gain a little more control. She scratched at his shirt manically, trying to take it off him and he understood and took a stepped back to throw it on the ground, and she already missed him.

But then he looked at her, actually looked at her with a spark of life in those terrifying eyes and jumped her, kissed her hungrily and pushed her so that her back was against the shelf. She hiked her legs around his waist, not knowing what she was doing but knowing that she needed more of him, more of everything and he ground his hips against her clothed womanhood and she moaned.  
That seemed to be his undoing. Everything after that was foggy for both of them, he managed to rip her underwear, managed to undo his pants and pushed into her, still kissing her lips, sending her to search for nirvana. They were moaning loudly now, he was pushing into her with abandon, she wanted more, wanted if faster and he liked it, he loved to listen to her voice. The bookshelf was rocking with his thrusts, the books were falling around them and the dust was everywhere and Hermione knew that it was her wildest fantasy, a fantasy she didn't knew she even had. And it was coming true. And she was close to coming, too.

And he sent her to achieve her nirvana. Draco held her close while she trembled and whimpered and fell into the abyss of ecstasy, and just when she started to calm down and looked into his eyes with satiated longing, he spilled himself inside her, transfixed with her subtle, yet so different and unique beauty.

That was what he wanted to remember. Her disheveled hair, her open and so pleasant face, her doe eyes glistening with satisfaction and wonder. That was his memory, only his to hold onto when everything would turn to shit.

"I wanted to do this since last night." He whispered and she smiled, still not much aware of her surrounding. He separated her from the shelf and she barely had the strength to stand on her weak legs. And she could feel her back bruising and hurting from the contact with the shelf, and she felt her muscles aching and her paint couldn't have been sweeter.

She buttoned up her dress again and looked up to see Malfoy, as disheveled as a couple of moments ago, standing on the same place against her and smiling.

He took one of her wild locks in his hand and twirled it, smiling at its bounce.

"You're pretty." He said, so simply, yet so scarily meaningfully. Something caught in her throat at his words, and she tried to smile back but couldn't. No one called her that before. No other man. Not even Ron. She was smart and exceptional, but never just pretty.

And there he was, standing before her, making it all so simple. Like he wasn't her enemy. Like he had actually meant what he said.

And she blinked, trying to cover how much it got to her, stood on her tiptoes and kissed his lips softly. It was just a peck really, and he didn't have the time to deepen it because she hurried out of the library, not looking behind.


End file.
